


[Comission] The Bird Catches The Cat

by rpickman



Category: Batman (Comics), Catwoman (Comics)
Genre: Angry Sex, Catwoman gets into it, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/M, Lots of words, Mind Control, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, blowjob, but don't worry, magic collar, they fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpickman/pseuds/rpickman
Summary: Catwoman breaks into the Penguin's warehouse to steal a unique gemstone...only to find that the Penguin has laid a trap for her.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Selina Kyle
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

In roughly 42 hours, the Iceberg Lounge would be hosting the “Snowbird Charity Auction”, a gala event to raise funds for the critically endangered Arctic Curlew. If one were to examine the guest list, they’d likely take note of a surprising lack of well-known, wealthy philanthropists for what was purportedly a charity event. Names like Wayne, Kord, Quinn or Holt were oddly absent and replaced with names like Sabatino, Maroni, Thorne, Falcone and Mannheim. 

One didn’t have to be the world’s greatest detective to deduce the true intent of the event. The location. The unusual guest list. No information sent to the press. No publicly declared list of items up for auction. It all pointed to an underground auction of illegally obtained art and antiquities. 

A layman might think that the greatest danger to such an event would be law enforcement. In other cities, that might very well be the case...but not in Gotham (in fact, Mayor Hill and the head of the Gotham FBI were both on the list of VIPs invited to the event). The Mona Lisa itself could go up on the auction block and no one would blink an eye. 

The  _ true  _ danger was not law enforcement but the very art thieves that stocked the auction’s inventory in the first place. Stolen goods couldn’t be reported to the police (even in a city as corrupt as Gotham) and certainly couldn’t be insured. Despite the common saying, there is truly no honor among thieves. 

This was exactly why the items soon to go up for auction were being stored in Warehouse # 42 until they were ready to be sent to the Iceberg Lounge. From the outside, the warehouse was an unassuming gray brick of a building nestled among dozens of similar structures in Gotham’s harbor district. The exterior bore a simple sign with the number “42” inscribed upon it. That anonymous, unremarkable facade was entirely by design. 

Despite the building’s bland exterior, the interior of Warehouse 42 was a cutting edge vault, filled with row after row of lockers. There were no human guards patrolling the building’s dark corridors. Too unreliable. Too prone to bribery or temptation. Instead, sensors set into the floor would detect anyone walking across the floor, even the humble footsteps of a mouse would send an alert to the offsite security office. 

That same security office also monitored a live feed provided by nearly a dozen hovering camera-drones. The little robots hovered on four buzzing rotors and followed a precise, ceaseless patrol route. Even if their off-site handler fell asleep at the monitor, they were quite capable of identifying and neutralizing intruders with their miniature machine guns. They were an AmerTek product, meant to be produced exclusively for the military. The beams of their small spotlights were the only source of light in the warehouse.

Anyone attempting to break into Warehouse 42 via traditional means would be dead in short order and it was unlikely the Gotham police would either know or care. 

In the darkness of the warehouse’s rafters, a slightly darker shape descended. If there had been anyone watching the rooftops of the warehouse and its neighboring buildings, then they would see that figure lithely bounding from rooftop to rooftop. Sometimes it used a long whip to snag a protruding duct or HVAC outlet. Sometimes it climbed directly up the walls, fingers and toes leaving claw marks in the cement and plaster. 

It was inside the warehouse now, having entered silently through the rooftop. A chemical agent had cut a silent hole through the roof and into the HVAC ducts...Human guards might have noticed the burning scent...but drones didn't have noses. 

The shape landed in almost total silence on top of one of the many rows of lockers. The dim, vestigial lights of the warehouse glinted off of the figure’s rich curves, covered (but hardly concealed) by her glossy, skin-tight suit. The outfit covered her nearly head-to-toe, except for a glimpse of pale, creamy skin and a hint of cleavage around the suit’s neckline. The bottom of her face was also uncovered, revealing lips painted with dark-cherry lipstick. 

_ All this tech and it all goes to waste because they weren’t smart enough to hire someone to think in three dimensions _ . Selina Kyle, known among her peers and the police as Catwoman, smirked as she wound up the microwire cable she had used to rappel down from the ceiling before tucking it into a small pouch by her waist. 

_ I should really be charging Cobblepot for pointing out all the flaws in his security.  _ A wicked smile crossed her full lips.  _ Maybe I’ll send him an invoice once this is all over.  _

She almost laughed out loud at the thought of the pompous little man fuming over the insult. The warehouse’s security might have a blindspot above ground level but the drones had sound sensors and would be on her in a second if she were to burst out laughing.  __

She trotted across the top of the row of lockers and leapt to the next one over. Her heels had cushions and shock absorbers and the faint sound of her footsteps was completely lost under the sound of the drone’s own rotors. 

_ First mistake, Cobblepot _ . _ Don’t put these things so close together. _ Selina shook her head.  _ Why even make them flat on top? Put an angle on it and no one would be able to balance on it at all.  _

_ Maybe I actually should do this for a living.  _ Selina pondered as she hopped easily from one row of lockers to another. She knew a few thieves who had gone “white hat” and used their talents to design and stress test security systems. She could probably make good money from that. A lot safer too...those thieves probably didn’t run their tests with live rounds in the guns.  _ But it just wouldn’t be any fun without the theft. No jewel glitters as brightly as a stolen one.  _

Catwoman crouched on top of one of the reinforced concrete locker units. The tight, glossy material of her suit stretched across her long, slender legs and over the taut curve of her hips as she leaned over the edge. One of those AmerTek security drones was approaching. She retrieved her tightly coiled whip from her waist, carefully judging the distance between the warehouse’s rafters and the floor. With a snap of her wrist (careful not to crack the whip) the tip of the whip spooled tightly around one of the firmer-looking anchor points just above her head. She gripped the handle tightly and wrapped the length around her wrist a few times to make sure it was secure, before jumping headfirst off of the ledge and towards the drone below. 

Her instincts were spot-on and the whip reached its full extension a few feet above the drone, right as it began to pass underneath. A foot further and her head would have smacked into the machine and a moment sooner or later and the drone’s 360-degree cameras would have spotted her. Unfortunately, the designers had failed to account for the blind spot directly above their tiny murder-bots. 

Catwoman hung upside down by her whip. Her legs were wrapped tightly around the taut cord, pressing it against her belly and causing the quivering length of the kevlar whip to press against her chest, right between her breasts.

_ Who knew those pole-dancing classes would be so useful?  _

Held gently between the clawed fingertips of her free hand was a small, disk-shaped device about the size of a silver dollar. As the drone passed right underneath her she reached down and carefully placed the disk on the top of the drone’s chassis. There was a soft click, and the drone bobbed slightly as the device’s magnetic coupling engaged. A tiny LED light on the disk’s surface began to blink green, indicating a successful connection. 

Catwoman quickly pulled herself back up the whip and swung onto another one of the convenient locker units. A quick tug freed her whip, which was quickly returned to her belt. A new device was produced, this one far more mundane: a smartphone. Making sure to retract her claws she checked the phone to confirm that she was receiving a signal from the device she had just planted, before tapping a few icons in rapid succession. 

The remote interface and hacking app were gifts from a friend, a hacker by the name of Giz. Selina knew a thing or two about handling computerized security but some things were best handled by professionals.

...such as creating a program to hijack the controls of the warehouse’s entire drone network. Within moments her smartphone had access to each of the miniature gunbots. A few more minutes and they were shut off, leaving them hovering in place. Their offsite handlers were receiving nothing but a looped playback of the last hour’s worth of footage. 

_ And that is exactly why you can’t rely too much on machines.  _ A self-satisfied smile spread across Catwoman’s face.  _ Toys like this are nice...but they break so easily.  _

Slipping her smartphone back into its holster she tapped the side of her goggles, smirking at her own slight hypocrisy as the high tech overlay flicked on. Some toys were just too fun not to play with. 

Through the lenses, Catwoman could see the entire warehouse outlined in shades of ruddy orange. Bright spots marked the locations of the disabled drones and she could make out the blurry lines indicating the weight sensors in the floor. 

In the far corner of the warehouse was a location marked by a pair of rotating concentric circles: her goal. The warehouse wasn’t the first place she had hit tonight...her first target had been the office of the head of Cobblepot’s security. A few minutes sifting through his hard drive had produced a complete list of all the items up for auction and their location in the warehouse...as well as hundreds of gigabytes of rather questionable pornography. She made sure to forward a few choice pieces to the Gotham PD’s SVU department, along with the man’s name and address. 

_ You’d think a security professional would know better than to have their password set to “password”.  _ Catwoman shook her head, mentally adding another entry to the invoice she was going to leave in the Oswald Cobblepot’s office.  _ Hiring someone new will probably do wonders for Cobblepot’s security. He should really be thanking me.  _

Moving as lithely and quietly as her namesake, Catwoman lept from row to row, following the AR indicator to her goal. Finally, she crouched on the row of lockers she sought and flicked her goggles to a more refined night-vision mode. The item she was looking for was in one of the smaller lockers, about five feet from the ground. 

There was a burst of compressed air and the sound of metal on concrete as Catwoman embedded two anchors into the top of the locker unit. She paused for a moment, ears straining for any signs of danger. Intellectually, she knew that with the drones disabled there was no risk of discovery so long as she stayed off the floor but her instincts told her to stay on edge. 

For a brief moment, she thought she heard the faint echo of footsteps. Her heart raced and she held her breath, straining for any other sounds...everything was quiet. 

_ You’re imagining things, Selina.  _ She chided herself.  _ Anyone walking around down there would set off the sensor plates.  _

She forced herself to calm down. Thieve’s couldn’t afford to be jumpy. Alert, yes, but not jumpy. She tried taking several deep breaths to steady her nerves but the tight material of her catsuit made that a little difficult. She pulled down the zipper a few inches to allow her generous chest a little more room to breathe. The skin between her breasts was damp from tense sweat and the cool night air felt delicious as it wicked away the moisture from her skin. She pulled the zipper down further down, almost to the bottom of her rib cage. She purred at the intimate touch of the cold air on her skin, her breasts barely contained by the figure-hugging material of her catsuit. 

_ Not like anyone is around to see me, is there?  _ The thought of committing a robbery completely naked flitted idly through her mind and a wicked gleam twinkled under the lenses of her goggles. It certainly would be interesting to be caught by the big bad Bat in that particular caper. She spent a few moments distracted, wondering how the vigilante would react, before shaking her head.  _ That’s enough, Selina. No naked burglaries, you need somewhere to keep the lockpicks, don’t you?  _

Laughing silently to herself, Catwoman clipped the newly anchored cords to her waist and began to lower herself down to the locker waiting below. She settled in, waist supported by the two cords and feet spread out to steady herself against the wall...only inches from the sensitive pressure sensors on the floor. The position left her hands free to work. 

All of the lockers in this unit were about the size of a bank deposit box and bore an electronic lock, controlled by a keypad. On the upper right corner of each locker door was a small inscription, “TRTL-60“, indicating that each was designed to withstand at least an hour’s work with a diamond-tipped drill.

Cobblepot’s perverted head of security had been stupid enough to leave the pdf of the locker’s owners manual on his hard drive. In a folder named “IMPORTANT WORK STUFF” no less. The included schematics indicated that each locker was equipped with a sophisticated alarm system: shock, thermal, seismic. Any attempt by a thief to force their way into one would almost instantly sound an alarm. 

Of course, that assumed the thief didn’t have access to the locker’s keycode. 

_ That would be nice, wouldn’t it? _ Catwoman mused with a small frown. Unfortunately, a convenient list of combinations and their corresponding lockers was one of the few things that the buffoon in charge of this place wasn’t stupid enough to leave laying around his hard drive.  _ No problem. Challenging problems just require creative solutions.  _

She pulled a thin plastic tube from one of her pouches, capped at both ends. She removed the seals, making sure not to let them fall to the ground, and placed the tube between her pursed, dark red lips. Leaning in, she blew a long puff of air through the tube directly at the keypad before removing the tube (its tip now slightly stained with lipstick) and placing it back in its pouch. 

Looking closely at the keypad, she began to adjust the settings on her goggles. The tube had contained an extremely fine, practically invisible powder...invisible to the naked eye at least. It emitted tiny quantities of radiation outside of the visible spectrum, which appeared clearly under the right vision mode. 

With her goggles, Catwoman could see the entire keypad spattered in a thick dusting of the powder. With a gentle puff of air, she blew most of it aside...leaving distinct fingerprints visible in the glowing UV light, indicating which keys had been pressed last. 

Catwoman increased the magnification from her goggles, getting as much detail as possible on the fine swirls and loops of the glowing fingerprints. 

_ The first button-press will have the most oil from the fingertip, so it’ll leave the clearest mark. Each button after the first will be slightly more degraded.  _ She tapped her claw-tipped fingers on the keypad, entering the code. There was a brief pause, long enough to nearly stop her heart from stress, before the lock chirped happily and a light above the keypad blinked green. The locker popped open with a soft hiss as the airtight chamber inside equalized pressure. 

Catwoman hooked the tips of her claws around the door and pulled the locker open. Nestled inside the plain metal box was a single object: a plain, black jewelry box. The box was sealed with a strip of tamper-evident tape, notarized by one of the city’s most trusted and reliable fences. Plucking the box from its resting place, Catwoman cut the tape with a quick swipe of one clawed fingertip. 

Still hanging from the anchored ropes, Catwoman opened up the box to reveal the prize inside. Nestled in a padded, velvet-lined case was a choker made from black calf-skin leather, designed to resemble a collar. The peculiar design was one of the things that had caught her attention. 

_ Oh dear, this thing looks even more hideous up close.  _ The collar wasn’t particularly impressive to look at. The materials - fine leather, white gold fittings and dozens of red-tinted accent diamonds - were expensive but the design was atrociously tacky. The aesthetics were poor enough that the entire thing was likely worth less than the sum of its parts. Selina might be able to sell the diamonds and precious metal fittings for a few thousand dollars but that was hardly worth the risk she had taken getting in here.  _ Who in the world made this ugly thing? I'm not usually the shark-tank sort but if I ever meet the designer then I might make an exception. _

But that was because she hadn’t risked her neck for the ugly collar...her true goal was set in the collar’s platinum “nametag”. It was an incredible red diamond, slightly wider than a quarter, cut and polished into the shape of a heart. Even in the dim light of the warehouse, the jewel seemed to sparkle with an intense, fascinating inner light. 

_ Amazing...I really had my doubts.  _ Naturally, Catwoman had an encyclopedic knowledge of valuable antiquities and jewelry...and she had never heard of this stone before browsing the security officer’s hard drive. The auction list had called it the “Bound Heart Diamond” and noted that the bidding would start at 10 million dollars. Over one hundred carats...rich red color...exquisite cut.  _ Where in the world did you come from? How did that oaf Cobblepot get ahold of you without me finding out?  _

She stared deeply into the heart of the stone, where its tiny, perfect facets focused light into a glittering, hypnotic flame... 

…

…

…

A small message popped up in Selina’s field of view, a message displayed via her goggles: 12: 30 AM, DON'T FORGET BUTTON'S PILL. 

“What the fuck?” Selina was so shocked that she accidentally blurted the words out loud. Button was the name of one of her cats and the dumb thing had gotten into her underwear drawer and eaten a thong three nights ago. Fortunately, the vet was able to extract the ruined g-string from the cat’s stomach but he had an antibiotic regime every 6 hours until he got his stitches out. 

...but it had been at least five minutes shy of midnight when she had hacked the drone network. It couldn’t have taken her more than ten minutes to get to the locker.

How long had she been staring at the gemstone? 

Catwoman’s head snapped up, pushing confusion to the back of her mind. There was a sharp, echoing sound in the darkness. 

Click. Click. Tap. 

Click. Click. Tap. 

Click. Click. Tap. 

Footsteps. The sharp, crisp sound of finely heeled shoes on concrete. Accompanied by the lighter tap of a walking stick or cane. She didn’t know why the floor sensors weren’t sounding the alarm. It didn’t matter. The footsteps were close...whoever it was would be turning the corner any minute now. 

Catwoman gripped the glittering collar tightly in her left hand and cut the anchor ropes with the claws of her right. She pushed off the wall and landed with both feet on the ground...no alarm. The system had been shut off. 

Suddenly the industrial lights over this row of lockers snapped on with the sound of electrical relays slamming into place. She hissed as her night vision goggles were overloaded by the sudden flood of light, squeezing her eyes closed and to pull them away from her eyes and up her forehead, exposing her pale, heart-shaped face. Short, black hair peeked out from the edges of her cowl. She squinted her sharp, green eyes against the sudden brightness. 

Fuzzy afterimages were swimming in front of her eyes, but she could see. Still gripping her prize tightly, she fumbled at a small pouch on one leg, extracting a handful of marble-sized microbombs. They weren’t terribly dangerous weapons but they had enough bang to leave foes blinded, stunned and deafened. They weren’t her favorite gadget...they were loud, flashy and attention-grabbing. Everything a proper thief shouldn’t be. They were only useful in situations where the shit had already hit the fan...where she had already screwed up enough that tossing explosives around couldn’t make the situation any worse. 

Unfortunately, it looked like this was going to be one of those nights. She gripped the handful of bomblets, waiting for the person approaching to come into sight. Once she subdued them, whoever they turned out to be, she could use the anchored rope to get back to the top of the locker unit. Then from there, she’d have free reign to use her whip to swing from unit to unit and make her way to the hole she had cut through the roof and escape out into the night. 

The  _ click, click, tap  _ stopped, the footstep’s owner stopping just before turning the corner. Catwoman could see their shadow on the ground. She raised a hand, ready to throw the pellets. 

“You don’t want to do that, my dear.” It was a man’s voice. Cultured. Calm. It was the voice of someone raised with elocution lessons. She could smell the faint scent of cigar smoke, overwhelming the stale, dry air of the warehouse. “There won’t be any fighting today.” 

“You…” She growled. She lowered her hand. Why was he here? Cobblepot wasn’t the sort to fight his battles himself...but she couldn’t hear any other footsteps. His thugs might be surrounding the warehouse. She should probably make a run for it, try and get out while she still had the chance. She crouched, ready to scramble up the rope. 

“Now, now, my dear. I know you’re a skittish little stray, but please don’t run off before we’ve had a chance to talk.” The criminal known as the Penguin rounded the corner, his fine, highly-polished leather shoes gleaming under the overhead lights. He held his bird-headed umbrella like a cane, tapping its tip against the floor as he walked. He was dressed much like he always was...like a 1920s businessman attending an opera. Silk top hat, black jacket and bow tie, finely tailored clothes. His face split into a cruel grin when he saw her, eyes lingering on the collar she held tightly in one hand. He looked cartoonish: short, barrel-shaped body on stubby legs...his old fashioned attire...the cliched cigar clenched between his teeth. Topped off by that ridiculously long beak of a nose. 

Catwoman relaxed her stance, no longer poised to run, but she remained cautious. The pompous oaf might look like a political cartoon brought to life but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. The squat little man in front of her had survived the cutthroat world of organized crime, rubbed shoulders with genuine lunatics like the Joker and even faced off against Batman. That took balls...and surviving it all took more than just good luck and money. 

“I’m not really here to chat.” Catwoman kept a careful eye on Cobblepot’s umbrella before putting on her ‘seduction face’...half-lidded eyes, lazy, relaxed smile and a coquettish tilt of the head. Men always underestimated pretty women, as though intelligence and beauty were inversely proportional. “I was just about to leave a note...I thought you might want to know about a few flaws in your security system.”

“Oh my...that is kind of you.” Cobblepot raised a sardonic eyebrow, apparently more than happy to play along. He leaned forward on his umbrella. “And, if I may ask, what is that you have in your hand?” 

“Oh...this little thing?” Catwoman’s face was a picture of feigned innocence. She could see his eyes traveling up and down her body, lingering on the front of her catsuit, which was still half unzipped. “It just happened to catch my eye as I was testing out your locks. I thought perhaps it might be an appropriate payment for a...security consultation.” 

“Of course. Of course. And that jewel in the collar just so happens to be the object in my warehouse with the greatest value for its size. A charming coincidence”

“Absolutely” Catwoman grinned back at him, reaching out to put the collar back in the locker. “But obviously if you don’t feel that’s fair I can just put it back and be on my way.”

“Keep it.” His voice was unusually sharp and Catwoman stopped in surprise, gripping the collar tightly. Her eyes narrowed. She’d obviously never intended to return the collar...but something felt off.

“Well, I’m certainly not the kind of girl who turns down a gift…” She looked around once more...there were still no signs of any guards or henchmen waiting in the wings but the bright light above her made it difficult to see the rest of the warehouse. Were there hidden snipers? “I should really be going...time to feed my cats I’m afraid.” 

“Ah yes, I know what a delightful burden pets can be. But don’t go just yet.” He took a few steps closer, puffing on his cigar. It occurred to Catwoman that she really shouldn’t let him get too close but something was telling her not to back away either. “Tell me, my dear. Are you familiar with the history of that particular stone?” 

“Well, I admit I took a peek at the auction list when I was visiting your chief of security earlier tonight. It was listed as the Bound Heart Diamond.” Catwoman’s smile was starting to feel brittle, Cobblepot didn’t seem like the sort to fall for her vamp routine. “You should be careful who you hire, I hear he might have some...unpleasant habits.” 

“Yes, Phillips has proven to be disappointing on many levels. He’ll be taken care of.” From the dangerous glint in his eyes, Catwoman was sure that the man was already dead. “But I’m afraid the ‘Bound Heart Diamond’ is a bit of a fiction...a rather loose translation of the jewel’s real name.”

“...What’re you playing at, Cobblepot?” Catwoman dropped the act entirely, coquettish smile turning to a stern frown. She looked at the stone dangling from the collar. She was certain it was a genuine diamond but he didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about losing it. 

“Nothing at all, my kitten.” He chuckled at her fierce look. “It is a lovely jewel, is it not? You should try it on.” 

“Don't call me kitten, Cobblepot. The diamond itself is nice, but the collar is tatty crap.” Catwoman turned the collar over in her fingers, finding the clasp at the back and undoing it. She slipped it around her neck and snapped the choker in place, allowing the diamond to dangle just above her breasts. “It fits well, but that’s the only good thing about it. The designer deserves to be shot for wasting good materials.” 

She looked back up at the Cobblepot, frowning and one hand on her hip (the other still holding the fistful of microbombs). He was smiling from ear to ear, a look of immense satisfaction on his round face. 

She waited for him to say something, but he just kept smiling at her, almost expectantly. 

An expression of confusion crossed her face...followed by one of dawning horror. She grabbed at her throat, at the choker she had just put on without realizing it. 

He was laughing now, a deep, evil chuckle. 

She raised her hand to toss the handful of microbombs at him...but she couldn’t move her arm to throw them. Her hand trembled in midair, explosives clenched tightly between her fingers. 

“Careful now, you might hurt yourself. Go ahead and put those away, my pretty little kitten.” 

Catwoman slipped the marble-sized explosives back into their pouch. She looked down in shock and horror at her hand...she hadn’t intended to do that. Something was going wrong. 

She should run. 

She didn’t run. 

She couldn’t run. 

It wasn’t even that her legs wouldn’t obey her...she couldn’t actually  _ try _ to run. She knew she should, she wanted to. But whenever she tried to put those desires into action her mind...slipped. Desire stubbornly refused to lead to action. Cause would not become effect. 

Cobblepot was closer now, staring directly into her eyes with a searching expression. He nodded, apparently immensely satisfied by what he saw. 

“What the fuck is this, Cobblepot!?” 

“Please, my dear, call me Penguin. Since we’re both in character as our roguish alter egos right now, it’s only appropriate that you use my  _ nom de theatre _ .” 

“Fuck you C-C-C...Penguin…” She trailed off, staring in disbelief at the Penguin. He took a long drag on his cigar and blew a puff of aromatic smoke into the air with a satisfied sigh. 

“It may sound cliche, but flawlessly executing a carefully laid plan is nearly as satisfying as making love to a beautiful woman.” The Penguin licked his lips. “Of course, I see no reason to choose.” 

“Penguin, I swear to God, if you don’t stop this game I will cut you up and feed your fat ass to your fucking birds!!” Catwoman’s words were venomous and she very much wanted to slice her claws across the Penguin’s smug face...but her brain simply refused to issue the command to her arms. At least she could still make threats. “I will make sure it hurts too! I may not be a fucking psycho like Two Face or the Joker, but trust me, I know how-” 

“You know…” The Penguin interrupted. “You should smile more.” 

Selina’s words sputtered to a stop as her lips suddenly pulled themselves up into a smile. Her face twisted as she struggled to form a different expression. She could grin, she could smile primly, she could smirk...but she could only smile. 

“That’s better.” The Penguin took another drag on his cigar. “I can see you’re confused, so why don’t you sit down and stay nice and quiet while I explain.” 

Catwoman knelt on the ground, looking up at the Penguin with wide, green eyes and a bright smile. She was breathing quickly, but softly, as he loomed over her. He reached out and stroked her cheek with one hand. She flinched, her smile still in place, and tried to lean out of his reach while maintaining her seated position. 

“Now, now. Don’t pull away.” Catwoman whimpered softly, smiling as the Penguin grabbed her by the chin and pulled her face up to look into his eyes. He blew a cloud of gray-blue smoke into her face, stinging her eyes. She wanted to say something...beg him to let her go...offer him money, favors, whatever it took. But she had to be quiet as he tilted her head this way and that, examining her face like a horse breeder purchasing a new mare. 

“That’s good...very good.” One of his thick fingers tucked a strand of hair back under the cowl of her catsuit. “Acquiring this gem was an incredible stroke of luck, I must admit. Well, I should say ‘gems’ shouldn’t I?” 

The Penguin reached into the pocket of his coat, retrieving a silver and gold pocket watch. The press of a button caused it to pop open, revealing no clock face or gear work...instead, it contained a setting for a single jewel. A blood-red diamond...twin to the one that dangled from Catwoman’s collar. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Almost as beautiful as you, my pretty little stray.” He stroked her face again, tracing the outline of her jaw with his fingertips. “I do apologize that the design of the collar is not to your liking. It’s amateur work I’m afraid, necessary to keep the existence of these jewels a secret. I know how many contacts you have among gem dealers in Gotham” 

The Penguin snapped the false pocket watch closed and returned it to his coat pocket. 

“I can’t speak to the authenticity of the myth but as I understand it, the diamonds were created by a king of antiquity who loved his wife very much, but worried that her heart had strayed to another.”

The Penguin’s fingers ran down Catwoman’s neck, tracing the lines of the choker she still wore. Another small whimper escaped from her throat but she still couldn’t speak. 

“Very tragic, isn’t it? His love, torn apart and ruined by infidelity. Traditionally, the king would have the queen and her lover beheaded...but this king loved his wife very much...and so he had the largest diamond in his kingdom cut in two and ordered his court wizard to enchant them to prevent his wife’s heart from straying again. Or so the story goes...” 

The Penguin stroked a thumb across the jewel hanging from Catwoman’s collar before letting go and moving his hand lower. He was leaning forward and she could smell the scent of tobacco and a hint of whiskey on his breath. She could feel his hand moving slowly along her collarbone, exposed by her still-unzipped suit. One finger followed the line of her zipper until it reached the curve of her breast. She smiled hesitantly, shivering with revulsion as he cupped her breast, rubbing the palm of his hand over her tight, black suit. 

“I’m not normally one to deal in hocus-pocus and fairy tales.” The Penguin continued to grope the kneeling Catwoman as he talked. One of his fingers found the outline of her nipple beneath the fabric and idly began to stroke it until it hardened and pressed out against the black polymer fabric. She bared her teeth in a wide grin of hatred and rage. “But once I determined that the jewels worked...well I must admit a rather self-indulgent idea came to mind.”

Catwoman’s eyes flicked downward, to the front of the Penguin’s pants. She could see a tell-tale bulge pressing against his expensive gray trousers. She could only shake her head, a stupid smile still plastered all over her face. 

He laughed. 

“Come now, don’t give me that look, like some blushing virgin, cornered by brutes in a dark alley.” He went down on one knee so that the two of them were eye-to-eye, one hand still holding onto the handle of his umbrella and the other sliding from her breast, down her flank and along the curve of her hip.

“I know women like you, my kitten. I know what you are.” As his hand moved onto her trembling thigh he leaned in even closer. “A pretty little slut. You like the attention...like men’s eyes on you. You like to make them reach for you so that you can run or smack them with your claws. A stray cat that teases the dogs so they’ll chase you down. Hoping to be caught, just not too easily.” 

Catwoman could only stare into the Penguin’s eyes a small smile on her face. Her mind was racing, trying to find something she could do, some way to break this control. She had a collection of smoke bombs in a small holster underneath her left shoulder...if she could grab those without the Penguin knowing, trigger them. She couldn’t run away but if she set off the warehouse's fire alarms then maybe…

“Don’t worry, my sweet little kitten!” The Penguin crooned, apparently unaware of her desperate attempt to escape. He took the zipper of her catsuit in her fingers and slowly pulled it upward until it was zipped up all the way up to the collar, just below the glittering diamond in her choker. “I’m not some common thug...a cold concrete floor is no place to enjoy ourselves.” 

Catwoman moved her hand slowly toward the holster, hoping the Penguin wouldn’t see...just a bit closer and she might be able to pull out the smoke bombs before he could issue a new command. Maybe once he was choking on the smoke he wouldn’t be able to give her any new orders…

“Hmmm…” The Penguin’s beady eyes narrowed, glaring suspiciously down his long nose at her. Something in her face must have given her away, some glimmer of defiance behind that persistent smile. “Perhaps there’s some fire left in my little whore...even a collared kitten has claws, I suppose.”

Catwoman lunged for the pouch under her arm, fingers pulling open the snap-buttons that held it shut. 

“Stop.”

Catwoman froze before she could reach inside, all her muscles locking up at once. The momentum of her lunge and her sudden paralysis caused her to topple over. She could only lay on her side, that dumb smile still stuck on her face, looking up at the Penguin as he rose once more, puffing at that fat cigar.

“From now on, you’ll only do exactly what I tell you.” The Penguin puffed out a cloud of blue-gray smoke. “Stand up.” 

Catwoman obediently rose to her feet, standing impassively in front of the Penguin with a gentle, blank smile on her face. 

“Give me a kiss, my dear.” 

Catwoman leaned down to plant a soft kiss on The Penguin’s cheek, leaving a slight hint of red from her dark lipstick. He chuckled again.

“Come now, you can do better than that. Let’s have a proper kiss. Show me what kind of hussy you are.” He gestured with the cigar between his fingers.

Catwoman leaned down once more, wrapping her arms around the Penguin’s neck and pressing their lips tightly together. She didn’t resist as his tongue parted her lips and met it with her own. He tossed the spent cigar to the side and rubbed his thick fingers over the curve of her ass, massaging it through the fabric of her suit. 

Their lips parted slowly and the Penguin made a rumbling noise of satisfaction. “That’s good. Very good. I think it’s time to take our tryst to the Iceberg Lounge...I want to take my time.” 

The Penguin’s harsh, squawking laughter echoed off the walls of Warehouse 42 as Catwoman obediently followed after him through the dark corridors. 

\----------------------------------------------

It was after hours at the Iceberg Lounge. The huge dining hall was dark, except for the dim lights illuminating the central pool and the massive block of ice in the center of it. Sleeping seals lounged on the ice as penguins swam in the water below. 

Almost forty feet above the dining hall, overlooking everything below, was the Penguin’s private office, his privacy (and security) protected by a thick window of one-way, bulletproof glass. 

Catwoman was staring down at the lounge through the window, barely blinking. She showed no sign of interest in the empty seats, the giant ice sculpture or the animals frolicking lazily below. When they had entered the room the Penguin had merely instructed her to take a look at the view.

And so she did. 

While Catwoman stared impassively out the window, the Penguin hung his jacket and top hat neatly on a coat stand in the corner (after making sure to retrieve the pocket watch containing his half of the jewel). His umbrella went into a gold-plated stand nearby alongside several of its brethren, each of them equipped with deadly hidden weapons. 

Behind his desk was an expensive mahogany and leather chair which he sank into with a deep sigh of contentment. Admiring Catwoman’s silhouette as she stared out the window, he undid his bow tie, letting it hang loose over his shoulders and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, exposing curly black chest hair. He was in no hurry...this moment had been a long time coming and it was something to be savored, not rushed. 

As his eyes ran over the slim outline of her legs and hips, his mind drifted back to the first time that he had ever dealt with the unpredictable virtuoso thief known as Catwoman. 

The Gotham Museum of Fine Art was hosting a display of a statue called the Jade Puffin. A beautiful, one-of-a-kind piece crafted from panels of multi-colored jade and it was exactly the sort of piece he needed for his collection of bejeweled sea birds. He wasn’t a mad obsessive like those other lunatics who stalked the Gotham underground, but he knew what he liked and he was more than willing to break a few eggs to get it. 

Unfortunately, stealing a priceless statue from a well-secured museum was delicate work: a job for an expert, not a handful of goons with guns. Catwoman had already made a name for herself as the best thief in Gotham, possibly one of the best in the world. So, naturally, he had summoned her to this very office, offering her a generous sum for her expert services. 

Back then Catwoman had been haughty and arrogant, looking down her nose at him as she demanded triple his asking price. The Penguin was a businessman at heart and no stranger to haggling, but her attitude had grated at him, especially since she did little to hide her obvious distaste for his appearance. He had, admittedly, lost his temper, and threatened to give the job to a more accommodating rogue, like the Wolf Spider or the odd pair Swindle and Vice. 

She had just laughed. 

It had been an infuriating, mocking laugh. Then she said that if he hired another thief she would just steal the Jade Puffin first and hold it beyond his reach until he paid her price. Or maybe just keep it for herself. 

At that point, he had to admit that he may have slightly lost his gentlemanly composure... 

That night had ended with several of his best henchmen put in the hospital by Catwoman and two of his finest umbrellas broken. Then the thieves he did end up hiring were caught by the damn Batman...and to top it all off, Catwoman made good on her promise and made off with the Jade Puffin under cover of the chaos. She might even have been the one to tip off the Bat. 

When he had returned to his office the next morning, he realized that she had used their meeting as an opportunity to case the place. He found the locks picked and his wall safe cracked. The money inside was gone and, in its place, were photos...photos of the Jade Puffin sitting on a bookshelf, holding up a row well-worn romance paperbacks.

It had been infuriating beyond words...an outrageous violation that would have normally earned a bounty on her head and a slow, painful death the moment he got his hands on her. But something about her had also awoken a dark, unquenchable lust in him. That beautiful body in her skintight catsuit, the unshakable confidence, that arrogant laugh. He didn’t want to kill her...he wanted to see her on her knees in front of him. He wanted to own her far more than he had ever wanted the Jade Puffin. 

That night he had fucked his favorite whore so hard that she could barely walk afterward. He had thought about her every night since then, imagined her face every time he was with a woman from then on...desperately searching for some way to make her his. 

Now, she was here. In the very room that had echoed with her mocking laughter. And she was completely under his control. 

“Come here, I want to take a look at you.” As Catwoman obeyed, he picked up a tumbler glass and a crystal decanter of whiskey. He flipped open a panel, revealing a tiny refrigeration chamber, and used a small pair of tongs to retrieve two gold-plated whiskey stones and dropped them into the glass. While Catwoman waited obediently in front of his desk he poured himself a glass, relishing the rich sound of the liquid. 

Sipping his drink, he motioned for Catwoman to come around the desk and stand by his side. She obeyed, making him nod in satisfaction. It seemed his last command made her fully obedient, even without spoken orders. Taking another drink, he took the opportunity to take in every inch of her beauty. Those long, shapely legs...full hips...firm, round breasts...a flawless, heart-shaped face with those dark red lips and bright green eyes. Even with that blank expression and half-smile on her face, she was gorgeous. 

“Face of an angel, body of a whore.” The Penguin’s voice was husky from the whiskey. He waved his hand in a broad gesture. “Let’s have a show...strip for me. Leave the collar on, of course.” 

Catwoman dispassionately reached up and began to unzip her suit. 

“Not like that!” The Penguin growled and Catwoman paused, zipper halfway down her breasts. She stood, waiting for some kind of order. The Penguin drained his drink and slammed the tumbler down on the desk, making the metal whiskey stones clink and clatter. “Stupid bitch, I didn’t say undress! I said strip! I know a slut like you knows how to do it, so put on a show.”

That command seemed to do the trick. Although her eyes were still blank her face took on a more sultry, seductive cast and her posture softened from ramrod straight to something slinkier and sexier. She reached up and pulled off her goggles, placing them on the desk. She then reached up and pulled back her cat-eared cowl, letting her short-cut black hair tumble free. She ran her hands through her hair, rolling her neck slowly from side to side. 

“That’s better…” The penguin leaned back into the cushioned chair and poured himself a second drink. “Much better.”

Catwoman leaned forward, running her hands up and down her body while giving the Penguin a leisurely glimpse of her cleavage from her partially unzipped suit. She pulled the zipper down...down...down. The zipper went all the way down the front of her catsuit, first past her breasts and ribs...then down past her belly button...then even further, stopping just shy of baring her pussy. Even unzipped, the suit still clung tightly to her curves, barely covering the tips of her breasts and only exposing a tantalizing hint of stubble from her shaven pubic hair. 

She leaned in closer to the Penguin, her bare skin a few tantalizing inches from his nose. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of whiskey, perfume and the hint of sweat beneath. He toyed with the idea of reaching out, shoving his fingers down past the zipper to grope between her legs. But there was no need to rush and he instead chose to stroke his fingers over the rising bulge against the front of his pants. 

“That’s right...there is no greater spice than anticipation. Deep down, I’m sure you’re just as eager...I’d wager you can’t wait to touch my cock. Taste it. Feel it inside you.”

Catwoman continued her striptease, slowly pulling off one glove and tossing it into a corner, followed by the other. She pushed the Penguin’s chair back and turned it until he was facing his desk. Hopping up to sit on the desk in front of him, she lifted one long leg until her heel was on the headrest. She ran her hands slowly along the length of her thigh, snapping off straps that held pouches and gadgets and tossing them aside one by one.

Finally, she was bent forward, sultry, unfocused eyes locked on the Penguin’s face while her fingers tugged at the laces of her boot. She pulled them loose and tossed the boot aside. She let her bare foot trail its way down from the headrest, past the Penguin’s grinning face, brushing against his arm and coming to a stop on the armrest of the chair. Then she repeated her show with the other leg: tossing aside her gear and equipment, unlacing her boot and resting her foot on the opposite armrest. 

“You’ve done this before haven’t you, my kitten?” The Penguin leaned back between Catwoman’s spread legs, enjoying the view as he continued to rub his erection through the material of his pants. “Keep going. Let’s see what a slutty little alley cat you are.” 

Catwoman leaned back until she was laying on her arched back, splayed over the Penguin’s desk with her legs still spread. Her movements were sinuous and slow as she turned over, letting her legs arc over the Penguin’s head as she rolled over onto her stomach. The Penguin’s desk was huge and she could easily lay across it. 

The Penguin let out a husky, rumbling chuckle as Catwoman pulled herself up on all fours, the tight, shining material of her suit hugging the curve of her rear. “Exquisite. That ass is perfect, a sculpture to rival every piece of art in my collection.” 

Catwoman stretched languidly, stretching the material even tauter, before rising to her feet. Her back was still to the penguin as she raised her hands above her head, hips swaying from side to side. The Penguin downed the rest of his second drink as she moved her hands down and slowly began to peel her costume off. She took her time, baring one shoulder, then another, before pulling her arms out of the long sleeves. 

The suit fell open to her waist, exposing the creamy arc of her back and the slightest hint of her breasts visible from behind. She looked over her shoulder, staring down at the diminutive crime boss as he grinned up at her. 

“Glorious, my horny little kitten, simply glorious! I’m going to desecrate you, plunder your tight little cunt like Genghis Khan looted Asia. I do hope you’re looking forward to it as much as I am.” 

Catwoman didn’t respond, she merely continued her dance...slowly, inch-by-inch peeling the suit down her waist. As it reached her hips she curved her back, legs spread on the desktop, to shove her ass out as she pulled the costume slowly downward. The black, clinging fabric peeled away from the smooth, pale curve of her asscheeks. Past her thighs now, the Penguin could see the dark outline of her labia against the dim light from the giant office window. 

Catwoman finally kicked off her costume and turned to face the penguin, gloriously naked and still writhing and twisting sensually. Her hands slid up and down her nude body, pushing her full breasts together, stroking her thighs, slipping between her legs. The Penguin could see her nipples were standing firmly erect from the chill air of the Iceberg Lounge. 

She stepped gracefully down from the top of the desk, standing in front of the Penguin’s chair. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the headrest of his chair, letting her breasts hang right in front of his eyes. He couldn’t hold back, tilting his head up and grabbing her tightly around her waist. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her breasts, his long nose and round jowls stroking roughly against the firm, soft skin. His lips found the hard, round nub of her nipple and he began to lick and suck it. 

Catwoman waited obediently and silently as he suckled at her tit, closing his lips completely around the areola and slurping vigorously. As he took as much of her breast into his mouth as he could he lapped at the hard nipple, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. He was disappointed that she remained silent and stoic, neither resisting nor encouraging him as he sucked harder. Not even the slightest whimper of pleasure or shiver of sensation. He pulled her closer, letting his teeth nip her flesh...but still, there was no reaction. 

Dissatisfied, he pushed her back. “It’s time for you to put that mouth to use.” He patted the front of his trousers. “Suck my cock.” 

  
  


Obedient and silent, Catwoman knelt in front of the Penguin and brusquely unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. She pulled down the striped boxers he wore beneath, revealing his hard cock. For his size, the Penguin was well-endowed...lengthwise he was no better than average but he had nearly twice the girth of a typical man with a wide, blunt head, not unlike a stout fire hydrant. He was used to expressions of pleased surprise from the women he normally shared his bed with. 

Catwoman said nothing and merely opened her mouth wide and clamped her lips around the tip. She began to suck...merely to suck. Not movement of her head, no attention with her tongue or fingers...she merely sucked the tip of his prick like it was a straw in a milkshake. 

“Bah!” The Penguin grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and causing his cock to pop free of her mouth with a loud  _ pop _ . “What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch? I know you’ve sucked a cock before, whore, so why aren’t you doing it properly?!

Catwoman just stared at him, eyes blank and mouth still hanging slightly open. The heart-shaped diamond dangling from her choker shimmered with inner crimson fire. 

“Hmm…” Then Penguin reached into his pocket and retrieved the false watch containing the heart-shaped jewel. It seemed that its control was sometimes  _ too _ absolute. Or perhaps this was her weak way of showing defiance, following his orders as literally and robotically as possible. 

The Penguin’s grim expression cracked into a wide, satisfied smile as something new occurred to him. He opened a drawer in the desk and placed the watch inside. He had tested the gem’s powers thoroughly and learned that he didn’t have the watch on his person in order to use its power once the link was established. He closed the drawer, listening for the electronic buzz of the electromagnetic fingerprint lock engaging, before turning back to the still-silent Catwoman. 

“It seems like I’ve been overly blunt in my methods, my kitten.” He gripped her chin gently in one thick-fingered hand, rubbing his thumb softly over her full, red lips. “But don’t worry, I know precisely how to remedy the situation.” 

He leaned closer, speaking low and quiet. “You will not merely obey me...you desire me. My touch and voice will be more exciting than any lover you’ve ever had. You want nothing more than to please me.” 

Catwoman shivered, a small wordless noise escaping her open lips. Then her blank eyes focused one the Penguin’s face, her expression softening. He stroked her lip once more and this time she responded to his touch, wrapping her lips around his thumb and sucking gently while staring into his eyes with her own half-lidded ones. 

“That’s much better, much better, my kitten.” The Penguin’s smile grew wider and he gently pulled his finger free. “Tell me...what do you want?” 

“I…” Catwoman’s voice was breathy and rich, “I want...I want your fat fucking cock in my mouth.”

“That’s what I thought.” The Penguin leaned back, stroking his fingers along the length of his cock. “So, what are you waiting for? Get that filthy mouth of yours to work.” 

Catwoman pulled his boxers and pants down further, baring his thick, hairy thighs, her movements hurried and eager rather than robotic. She wrapped on hand around his cock and cupped his balls with the other. Leaning in, she ran her tongue lovingly over his scrotum and then slowly up the shaft of his cock until she finally reached the squat, blunt tip. With an eager, hungry groan she took him into her mouth, letting the wide head rub against her soft, wet tongue as she pushed her head down. 

“That’s right. I want you to take the whole thing, like the horny little stray you are.” 

Her only response was an incoherent murmur as her jaw strained to accept the girth of his cock. She gamely continued, shoving his thick, meaty shaft deep into her throat until her lips were wrapped tightly around the base, leaving her nose buried in his wiry thatch of pubic hair. 

“Yessssss…” The Penguin hissed in pleasure, putting his hand on the back of her head, although there was no need to hold her in place as she enthusiastically deep-throated him. “I knew you were a whore but this…aaaah...this is exceptional. Why bother stealing when you could make so much more with a mouth like that?” 

Finally, Catwoman pulled back, gasping for air and leaving a ring of deep-red lipstick circling the base of the Penguin’s cock. She was panting, causing her warm breasts to heave against his bare thighs but she barely gave herself a moment to catch her breath before she pounced back on him, enthusiastically kissing, sucking and licking at his hard shaft. As soon as her panting subsided she wrapped her lips around him once again, bobbing up and down on his cock, tongue stroking up and down the thick central column that ran from his balls to his perineum. 

“What do you think, my kitten?” 

“Aaah…” She gasped, circling her tongue around the tip and barely giving herself time to talk. “I love it...I just want to-mmmmmmggh”

Her words slurred to incoherence as he pressed her head forward and she buried her face in his balls, licking and sucking at his testicles eagerly. 

“Fuuuuck.” The Penguin groaned as Catwoman sucked his balls into her mouth, stroking them with her soft tongue. “I’m about to cum and I...mm...I had better not see a speck of it on your pretty skin.” 

Catwoman pumped his cock with her hand, popping his balls out of her mouth, “I won’t spill a drop. I want it all.” 

Still pumping with her fingers, she shoved his sturdy cock into her mouth, letting the tip rub against the back of her tongue. The Penguin came quickly, spurting cum directly down her throat. The Penguin rolled his head back, gripping the arms of his chair as Catwoman’s lips remained locked around his cock. With her free hand, she gently squeezed his testicles, throat visibly working as the Penguin continued to squirt jets of cum into her mouth and she obediently drank it down. Even when he relaxed, she kept his softening cock in her mouth and continued suckling at it, coaxing every drop from it. 

“That’s the way, my little kitten...swallow it all. Every fucking drop.” 

With her mouth full Catwoman could only respond with a muffled moan, followed by an audible gulp as she swallowed the last mouthful. When she finally pulled away the smeared ring of lipstick around the base of his cock was much thicker. She licked his half-hard shaft, carefully cleaning his dick and still pumping vigorously to try and bring it back to full mast. 

“That’s not fair…” Her voice was a pouting whine as she tried to revive his erection. “I want more, I want more of your thick dick. Please don’t leave me like this.” 

“You really are nothing more than an alley cat in heat, aren’t you?” The Penguin grabbed her right bicep and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for, the fucking you deserve.”

“Oh, yes. Please, please fuck me.” Catwoman whined plaintively, she was half-kneeling and rocking her hips back and forth to rub her pussy against one of the Penguin’s bare, hairy thighs. 

“Such an impatient little slut.” The Penguin wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer while she continued rolling her hips against his leg. “I’ll fuck you, but I’ll do it when and how I please.” 

Her only response was a delighted giggle as he buried his face between her breasts, his long nose poking between them as he licked and kissed the soft, sweat-kissed skin. His lips found her nipple again and this time when he sucked at it she pressed herself closer, cooing in delight. When he sucked harder she moaned out loud, grabbing the back of his head and pressing him tight to her chest. 

While he licked and sucked her right breast, his left hand groped the other tit, blunt fingers clutching tightly to her firm curves. Catwoman’s breasts were practically flawless, large enough to completely fill his hand and almost a perfect dome. They were full enough to bury his face and fingers into but firm enough to stay perky and smooth. She purred as he twirled his finger and tongue around her nipples, teasing them with occasional tugs or soft bites. 

“Let’s see if you’re as enthusiastic as you say, my horny kitten.” The Penguin chuckled as he pulled his mouth back, although he continued to fondle her other breast with his left hand, relishing the pressure of her firm nipple against his palm. He slid his other hand up her thigh until his fingertips rested along the side. Despite his short stature, his hands were large and wide, allowing him to press his fingertips into the side of her thigh while his thumb stroked against the soft skin of her pubic mound. 

The hair of her pussy was neatly shaven with only the slightest hint of stubble providing a delightful texture to explore. 

“Don’t tease me like this. I need you inside me, please, please fuck me.” Catwoman started to fumble at the buttons of his dress shirt, her lust making her normally nimble fingers clumsy. 

The Penguin slipped his fingers over the curve of her thigh and between her legs. Her skin was hot, he could feel the warmth radiating from her pussy before his fingers even touched it. When they did, he found her to be incredibly wet and receptive, his fingers sinking immediately into the eager, slick lips. She whimpered, pressing her hips against his hand and pushing his fingers deeper inside. 

“I said, be patient!” The Penguin growled although he felt only amusement at her transformation. His mind drifted back to that disastrous meeting they’d had in this office so many years ago. That look of disgust on her face. The arrogance in her words. That  _ laugh. _

She wasn't laughing at him now. She was writhing and mewling on his lap, his fingers buried in her moist, eager pussy. This was his sweetest victory. 

Catwoman whined in disappointment when he pulled his hand free. She grabbed his wrist, pouting and trying to gently pull his hand back between her legs. “Don’t stop now! I want to come, please!” 

The Penguin ignored her, pulling his arm from her grip and grabbed her by the waist. He grunted as he lifted her up, plopping her bare ass onto his desk. 

“Whiny little slut.” He pushed her legs apart, admiring the glistening, puffy lips of her bare pussy. “Your cunt is mine and I’m going to fuck it when and how I like.” 

Catwoman was biting her lip, looking down at him with wide, pleading eyes. She started to thrust her hips slightly, pushing her legs a bit more open each time. “I promise I’ll be good, I promise, just don’t leave me like aaaaaaaaaannnggh…”

Her words trailed off into a groan of pleasure as he slipped his fingers inside once more. His index and middle finger slipped in just as easily as before, well past the second knuckle. He began to slide them slightly in and out and, with each push, he could feel her eager pussy clenching around his knuckles. Her clitoris was easily visible, a swollen pink nub peeking between the wet lips of her pussy. As his fingers went deeper, he pressed his thumb against it.

“Oh God, it feels so good...harder! Please go harder!” 

“Hmph.” The Penguin ignored her request, keeping his force and speed steady as he plunged his fingers in and out, thumb rubbing up and down the sensitive button of her clit. “I know what I’m doing, kitten. I know just what that sweet little cunt needs.” 

Catwoman’s hips continued to rock, pushing the Penguin’s fingers in deeper. He shifted his grip slightly, holding his hands like he was rubbing a bolt of cloth between his thumb and forefingers. He kept his thumb pressed tightly against her clit while his first two fingers began to gently circle the soft ridges of her G-spot. 

It didn’t take long to bring her off, her pleading to go faster and harder dissolving into panting and then into a rising, plaintive moan. Her thighs trembled and the firm muscles of her stomach rippled as the orgasm rippled through her body. The Penguin licked his lips in satisfaction as he felt her body clenching tightly around his fingers, trying to draw them further inside. He kept his fingers firm, maintaining that same steady pattern around her trembling G-spot. Before the first tremors of orgasm faded, her second orgasm caught her, then another. She fell onto her back on the desk, legs spread wide as he continued to coax more pleasure from her body. 

Grinning smugly, the Penguin finally retracted his hand, allowing Catwoman to catch her breath. She was covered in beads of sweat and panting heavily from the repeated waves of ecstasy, breasts heaving delightfully in front of him. 

“Don’t think you’re done yet, my kitten. I’ve got exactly what you’ve been begging for right here.” 

His cock was hard again as he got to his feet, stripping off his shirt and pants completely. Catwoman started to rise up onto her elbows but he pushed her down onto her back. 

“First, I want to hear you ask for it.” 

“Please, Penguin. I want some more.” 

“What is it you want, you slutty little alley cat?”

“I want your cock. Please fuck me. Please!” 

He grabbed her by her hips and, with a quick surge of motion, flipped her over onto her stomach. He pulled her back towards him until her long legs were dangling over the edge of the desk, her ass and pussy at the perfect height for his stature. He slid one finger along the dripping lips of her pussy, slapping her ass with his other hand. She yelped and he felt her pussy quiver against his fingers at the feeling of his palm against her ass and his cock grew harder, twitching eagerly. 

“That’s what I thought. You’re nothing but a horny cunt waiting to be fucked, aren’t you?” 

“That’s right. I just want you to fill me up!”

“Well, that’s the question isn’t it?” He rubbed his cock with one hand, moistening it with Catwoman’s pussy-juice, and reached into a drawer of his desk with his other hand. 

“What? Penguin, don’t tease me again!” Catwoman stretched her tiptoes out, pushing against the ground to lift her ass and pussy into the air as she bent over his desk.

“Shush, my little alley cat. I have a question for you. I am ordering you to answer this question truthfully and honestly, free of any compulsion.” He tossed the item he had retrieved from his desk onto the wood in front of Catwoman’s face. It was a strip of condoms. “Tell me...would you rather I wear one of these...or fuck you raw?” 

There was a moment of hesitation as Catwoman trembled on the desk in front of him, her eyes fixed on the condoms. 

“I said, answer me! Honestly. What. Do. You. Want.”

Her lipstick-smeared mouth worked for several seconds before a quiet little voice broke free of her lips.

“...raw…”

The wide, blunt tip of the Penguin’s fat cock rubbed against the wet, trembling lips of Catwoman’s pussy. 

“Louder, bitch! What do you want?!” 

“I want you to fuck me raw!!” Selina screamed. 

She screamed again, this time in joy, as the Penguin slammed his cock into her pussy from behind. He stood at his full height behind the desk, drawing back his hips like a gun being cocked before slamming them forward back into Selina Kyle’s eager slit. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now!” He snarled, grabbing her waist to keep his vigorous thrusts from sending her tumbling off the front of the table. 

“I...uuunfh…” Selina was interrupted as he almost knocked the breath out of her with his intensity. She gripped the edges of the desk with white knuckles. “All I can t-think about...is how good your cock...aannggh...feels inside my pussy.” 

“That’s right. You like this, don’t you, slut?” He could feel her body answering for her, her pussy clenching tightly, sucking him deeper inside. “Tell me!” 

“Yes!” She half-growled, half groaned. “Oh God…I love it! I’ve never been fucked like this. It’s amazing!” 

He could see her translucent reflection in the window opposite his desk. Her breasts were pressed together as she lay on the desk, her head was hanging forward and bobbing with each thrust of his hips. The crimson fire of the gemstone that dangled from her choker flickered and flashed with each motion. Her mouth was open, panting with need and exhaustion, her eyes were half-lidded and he could barely make out a hint of green as her irises rolled back into her head.

Pulling back further on her waist he yanked her off the desk entirely. Together, his cock still buried deep into her, they collapsed into his oversized chair. She writhed in his lap, her own weight pushing him even further inside her and his thick, hefty shaft stretching her pussy. She was riding him now, lifting herself up slightly before pushing back down onto his shaft, moaning wordlessly with pleasure. 

He was breathing heavily now too, groping at her breasts with his thick fingered hands. His breath was hot on her neck, his long nose brushing against her ear. 

“Now, my kitten. I want you to tell me exactly what you think about me, you whore.” 

“I...ah! I h-hate you! I hate you...uuuuaaah...so fucking much, Penguin!” Selina could barely speak around the gasps and groans of pleasure. "I want...I want to fucking kill you!"

“But do you still want me to keep fucking you, my kitten?” 

“YES!” Selina’s voice was full of lust and shame and hunger. “I want you to keep fucking me! I want you to fuck me harder!” 

“Your wish is my command, my little kitten.”

As Catwoman ground her hips onto the Penguin’s thick cock, he reached around her slender waist. His fingers slid between her legs and he found that wet, sensitive nub of her clit. He pressed it between two of his fingers, forcing it tighter against the thick shaft of his cock as he slid in and out of her body. 

Catwoman arched like a bow, the back of her head rubbing against the Penguin’s bald pate and her breasts pressing against his groping left hand. His fingers found one of her nipples and he pinched, tugging it away from the perfect, sweat-dappled curve of her breast. She let out another ecstatic scream, her voice echoing off the walls of his office. 

He felt her coming, tight, wet walls of her pussy rippling against his dick. She stopped her up and down movement and pressed as hard as she could, pushing him as deep inside her as possible. 

He was coming too, the pleasant, hot tightness of his balls as his cock began to jerk and twitch inside of Catwoman’s slick eager channel. He groaned in satisfaction as he came, his cock squirting jets of cum deep into Catwoman’s unprotected pussy. He held her there, on top of him, hips jerking as he let the tremors of her pussy milk every drop of cum from his balls, filling her pussy with his semen. 

Finally, the two collapsed onto the chair, The Penguin’s softening cock sliding out of Catwoman’s slit. Most of his cum had been sucked eagerly into her body by the contractions of her orgasm but there was still a trickle of white fluid from her conquered pussy. 

After several minutes spent slowly regaining their breath, Catwoman turned her body slightly, almost curling onto his lap. Her fingers gently pawed at the thick thatch of black chest hair as she looked up into his eyes. They were still somewhat unfocused, fogged by exhausted pleasure and the effect of the gem that still glittered in her collar. But he could see a question behind them, a hint of her original self. 

_ What now? _

He raised one hand and stroked her perfect face, her short black hair plastered to her forehead by sweat. He rubbed his thumb over her lips again and it came away red from the smeared lipstick. The Penguin dropped his hand to her throat, toying with the gemstone on her choker. 

“Don’t worry, my little kitten.” He smiled. That same wide, cruel grin. “I have no intention of squandering a gift like you. We’ll have many nights like this to come…” 


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catwoman has escaped the Penguin's clutches, but Cobblepot tracks her down and calls her back home.

Oswald Cobblepot sipped his glass of Champagne, washing down his mouthful of raw salmon. His thick fingers handled a pair of ivory chopsticks with surprising delicacy as he snatched up another slice of sashimi from the platter in front of him and stuffed it in his mouth.  
  
  
  
Across the table from him was a woman. She was dressed in expensive, but unfashionable, clothes. It was the sort of outfit that the modestly wealthy assumed the extremely wealthy would dress in. It was poorly tailored and didn’t suit her body or face in the slightest but it did glitter with pointless adornments and overpriced tat.  
  
  
  
She was talking, but Oswald hadn’t been listening for quite some time, only making the occasional reassuring grunt or humorless chuckle to serve as punctuation for her mindless babbling. She was wealthy enough to earn his presence at the table but not enough for his attention or respect. Hopefully, this inane conversation would result in her renting the Iceberg Lounge for an event of some kind but in the meantime, Cobblepot simply attempted to enjoy his dinner as best he could.  
  
  
  
This long-winded stalemate continued for several more minutes until Cobblepot spotted Marko making his way through the crowd. Marko was one of his top men...that rare breed of henchman who was as comfortable when dressed in a tux and bow tie as he was when electrically castrating a stool pigeon. He wouldn’t be interrupting Cobblepot’s dinner, especially dinner with a potential client, if there wasn’t an important matter that needed to be brought to his attention.  
  
  
  
“Just a moment, my dear. I believe there’s a message for me.” He offered his banal tablemate a feigned smile as he waved Marko over. The henchman approached, leaning down to whisper in Cobblepot’s ear.  
  
  
  
“You’ve got a visitor in your office.” Marko was straight to the point. He knew better than to waste time apologizing for the interruption. “It’s Mister Kuttler. Says he’s managed to find something.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot’s smile widened into a genuine, wicked grin. He downed the dregs of his drink and got to his feet.  
  
  
  
“We simply must meet again some time miss…” He struggled to remember the simpering woman’s name before giving up. She wasn’t worth the effort. “But I’m afraid I must cut our engagement short, some rather pressing business has come up that I absolutely must attend to..”  
  
  
  
“Oswald, no!” She pleaded, her whining voice grating on his nerves. “I was just about to get to the best part of the story!”  
  
  
  
“And I cannot wait to hear how the tale ends!” He assured her, taking her hand and patting it with false joviality. “But I really must be going for now. Please, let my man Marko know when you’re next available and I assure you that you’ll have my undivided attention!”  
  
  
  
He tried to pull away but she held firmly onto his hand.  
  
  
  
“Come now, Ozzy…surely you can put off this business just a biiit longer. For me?” She looked up at him, her face twisted into a theatrical pout. She leaned forward, allowing her low cut dress to expose cleavage that had seen far better decades. He had no idea where she had gotten the idea that she had any charms, let alone that he had fallen for them, but it seemed that the foolish woman was trying to flirt with him!  
  
  
  
He leaned in close, his long nose nearly touching hers.  
  
  
  
“Listen to me, you stupid cow.” His voice was a harsh, angry whisper, “Let go of my hand or I will snap those fat fingers off and feed them to my birds.”  
  
  
  
Her eyes widened in shock and her grip loosened. He pulled free and instantly switched back to his sugary demeanor.  
  
  
  
“Feel free to enjoy the buffet and the entertainment, but I must really be going.”  
  
  
  
She watched in horrified disbelief, unable to muster a retort or question, as he strode off towards the private elevator to the upper levels of the Iceberg Lounge.  
  
  
  
*********  
  
  
  
“Hello, Penguin” Noah Kuttler was sitting comfortably in an overstuffed armchair, beside the window overlooking the Iceberg Lounge’s central clubroom. He looked up as Cobblepot entered, offering the shorter man a thin smile. “Sorry to interrupt your dinner.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot barely managed to suppress an open sneer and looked at the henchmen standing by the doorway, left by Marko to keep an eye on Kuttler. “He hasn’t touched anything, has he? Anything at all?”  
  
  
  
“What? No, no sir. Just sittin’ there since Marko went to get you.” The man was burly and scarred, the look of dumb muscle. Like a side of beef squeezed into a tuxedo and taught to walk like a man.  
  
  
  
“What’s the matter, Penguin. Don’t trust me?” Noah Kuttler got to his feet, showing his spread hands to indicate they were empty. “Don’t worry your little head. I’m a professional...wouldn’t steal from a client.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot glowered at him but waved at his henchman to leave the room. Like many in the criminal underworld, Noah Kuttler was known more commonly by an alias: The Calculator. An information broker, hacker for hire and blackmailer.  
  
  
  
Neither of them particularly liked the other. Both were more or less in the same business...and competition in the criminal world could be lethal. Kuttler had been trying to poach the Penguin’s clients for years, but Cobblepot managed to keep an edge in Gotham with his contacts within organized crime. The old families didn’t trust or understand modern information-gathering techniques and they put a lot of stock in reputation and civility...Kuttler’s brash, unpleasant personality rubbed them the wrong way, allowing Cobblepot to keep a tight grip on Gotham’s underworld.  
  
  
  
Unfortunately, when it came right down to it...he had to admit that Kuttler was the best at what he did: the man was brilliant, resourceful and tapped into the digital world in ways that Cobblepot just couldn’t match. Which is exactly why he had hired him for this particular job.  
  
  
  
That didn’t mean he had to like the man.  
  
  
  
Cobblepot stomped over to his desk and sat down heavily into his expensive executive chair. Kuttler approached the desk, still smiling that shit-eating grin, but he didn’t say a word. He was waiting for Cobblepot to break the silence...a petty little power play.  
  
  
  
“Kuttler,” Cobblepot growled. “If you’re wasting my time then I’ll just hire someone else and my man Marko can spend some quality time with his cattle prod and your prostate. Understood?”  
  
  
  
That wiped the smirk off of Kuttler’s face.  
  
  
  
“Penguin, if anything happens to me-”  
  
  
  
“Yes, yes…” Cobblepot waved a hand dismissively, fishing a large cigar from his desk draw, along with a gold-plated cigar cutter. “I’m sure you have some packet of information ready to send to my enemies or the FBI or whoever. I’m not impressed. I’ve been arrested twelve times...been sent to Blackgate four times and even spent a few unpleasant months in Arkham once. I always get out. I always rebuild.”  
  
  
  
He punctuated his statement by slicing the tip from his cigar before pulling out a matching lighter and igniting the tip. He inhaled, blowing a jet of smoke towards Kuttler, who scrunched up his face and coughed in annoyance.  
  
  
  
“You may very well have something that could annoy or inconvenience me...but you won’t live to see how I get out of it. Like my birds, I am quite waterproof.”  
  
  
  
There was a moment of silence as Kuttler digested that threat. Cobblepot could see the gears working. True to his nickname, Kuttler was good at assessing the odds. He grimaced slightly as his internal calculations painted a grim picture.  
  
  
  
“Fine.” He pulled a large smartphone from a padded “holster” on his hip and his fingers danced across the screen. “I found her.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot’s eyes widened in anticipation, his quick intake of breath turning the tip of his cigar cherry-red before he exhaled a cloud of smoke through his oversized nose. “You have? Her name. I need her name!”  
  
  
  
“Cool down, Penguin,” Kuttler smirked again, shaking his head. “I’ve got what you need. Although didn’t she run with you and your gang for a few months? And you never bothered to find out her real name? Sloppy.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot’s teeth tightened around his cigar and he slammed his fist onto the desk, causing the crystal tumblers and decanter of whiskey to rattle. “I’m not interested in your opinion, Kuttler! I want the information!!”  
  
  
  
“There.” Kuttler put the phone on the desk. Displayed on the screen was a text file, accompanied by several photos of a green-eyed beauty. Her short, black hair and dark red lipstick contrasted sharply with her smooth, pale skin. “Selina Kyle. AKA Catwoman.”  
  
  
  
“Selina Kyle…” The Cobblepot repeated, savoring the name he had spent almost a year and a half searching for. “I found you…”  
  
  
  
“Well, I think you’ll find that I found her.” Kuttler’s smirk broadened. “Technically speaking.”  
  
  
  
“What has she been doing? She hasn’t been seen in Gotham since we...parted ways. Where is she? London? Star City?”  
  
  
  
“She’s actually still here in Gotham...I think she may have retired.”  
  
  
  
“What?!”  
  
  
  
“Get this...she’s apparently living full time with Bruce Wayne of all people. At first, I assumed it was some kind of long con...maybe even a black widow maneuver...but I think she may have actually settled down.”  
  
  
  
“With Bruce Wayne...that...that mindless playboy?!”  
  
  
  
“Well, Wayne may be a himbo but he’s loaded. I guess she figured there wasn’t much point in stealing if you’re living with one of the richest men alive.”  
  
  
  
“How dare she!” Cobblepot sputtered in fury. “Playing at being arm candy for some...some...empty-headed trust fund moron!!”  
  
  
  
Kuttler raised an eyebrow at Cobblepot’s fury. “So...I take it this is more than just business...If you like I could help you work out a plan to get into Wayne manor. It’s got good security but barely any staff...shouldn’t be hard...for the right price.”  
  
  
  
“No.” Cobblepot glared up at Kuttler, blue-gray tobacco smoke forming an ominous cloud around his head. “Your job is done here. Catwoman...Selina Kyle...is going to be resuming her former position shortly. So...keep in mind that if you decide to share this information with anyone else then I will consider it a personal attack on my business. Understood, Kuttler?”  
  
  
  
“Loud and clear.” Kuttler looked curious, clearly trying to piece together the background behind Cobblepot’s anger. “As far as the second half of the payment…?”  
  
  
  
“I have the bank account details. I’ll make a call and you’ll receive the transfer in a few hours. Just as agreed.”  
  
  
  
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Kuttler gave Cobblepot a mocking bow and retrieved his phone, leaving a small thumb drive in its place. “That’s your copy of all the details.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot watched him leave, puffing on his cigar, weighing the pros and cons of having Marko eliminate the man. With a long drag and a plume of smoke, he decided against it...just because he could weather a disaster and rebuild didn’t mean he relished the idea. Kuttler knew better than to go to war by airing out Cobblepot’s dirty laundry without a good reason. He ground out the smoldering remains of his cigar in the ashtray on his desk.  
  
  
  
After Kuttler left the room, Cobblepot walked over to the painting on the wall, depicting topless mermaids luring seamen to their deaths, and slid it aside to reveal a wall safe embedded deeply in the concrete. A few numbers tapped into the keypad and a retinal scan caused the safe to pop open. Inside was a small box, which Cobblepot retrieved, forcing himself to suppress his excitement and handle it carefully. He opened the box to inspect the contents.  
  
  
  
Inside, nestled in velvet, were two pieces of jewelry: a silver and gold pocket watch and a gaudy, black choker in the form of a collar. Dangling from the front of the collar was a heart-shaped red diamond in a platinum setting.  
  
  
  
He retrieved the pocket watch and pressed the switch on the top causing the case to pop open, revealing an identical red jewel. Almost sixteen months ago, Cobblepot had used these enchanted gems to take control of the virtuoso thief known as Catwoman, making her his willing servant and lover.  
  
  
  
He gripped the watch tightly, remembering those hot, eager nights spent with his beautiful pet. Remembering the feeling of her smooth, creamy skin under his fingers...the curve and heft of her breasts...the scent and taste of her…  
  
  
  
Unfortunately, he had allowed himself to become distracted and complacent...drunk on the pleasure of Catwoman’s body. He had neglected the usual careful planning and caution that served him so well in the Gotham underworld. The meddling bastard Batman had caught wind of a weapon deal going down at the Gotham docks and showed up to wreak havoc. Desperate to avoid being captured, Cobblepot had ordered Catwoman to kill Batman.  
  
  
  
Unfortunately, it seemed that he had shown his hand too clearly...and perhaps the flashy affectation of the collar was a little obvious. Batman seemed to catch onto his influence over Catwoman. He had torn the collar free, releasing Catwoman from the gem’s spell. She had immediately fainted, forcing Batman to flee with her as Cobblepot’s men tried to capture both of them. The one silver lining was that the meddling ‘hero’ had dropped the collar as he fled.  
  
  
  
That was the last time Cobblepot had seen Catwoman. He knew she and the bat had been uneasy allies at times but he had still expected her to be handed over to the police and confined to Blackgate, given her long criminal history. But as the days and weeks went by it became clear that Batman had either let her loose or she had escaped on her own.  
  
  
  
He had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to try and track her down, or at least find out some of her background, with no success. Every day he cursed himself for not forcing her to divulge her private identity while she was still under his sway. At the time he simply hadn’t cared...her previous life wasn’t important anymore, after all, she was his pet. His Catwoman. Her “civilian” identity was of no interest to him...until she vanished without a trace and left him without even a name to search for.  
  
  
  
Eventually, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and pay a ludicrous price for Kuttler’s assistance.  
  
  
  
Fortunately, that had proven to be a worthwhile investment. He knew her name now...knew that she was close by, in Gotham no less. He grinned down at the jewelry in his hands. That would be everything he needed...he may not be an expert in magical artifacts but he did know two things. First, no one could stay under that enchantment for so long without some lingering connection.  
  
  
  
And secondly...in magic, names had _power_.  
  
  
  
  
  
*********  
  
  
  
  
  
The crack of a whip echoed against the walls of the stately master bedroom of the equally stately Wayne Manor, followed by a wicked, feminine laugh. The walls had recently been decorated with the portraits of various dignified Wayne ancestors, mostly because the current head of the Wayne household never particularly cared about decor.  
  
  
  
That had changed once the master bedroom gained a second full-time occupant, relegating the ancient artwork to a storage room. Now the only decoration on the wall was a large oval mirror and a wall clock in the shape of a black cat. The clock’s swinging tail and shifty eyes clicked ever-so-slightly out of time with the deeper, more dignified tick-tocking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner.  
  
  
  
In the giant four-poster bed lay Bruce Wayne. He was naked, with only a white silk sheet covering his waist, leaving his muscular chest and torso bare. He was also bound, his arms and legs handcuffed to each of the bedposts by fuzzy, pink cuffs. Despite the situation, his expression was mostly one of bemused detachment.  
  
  
  
There was another whip crack as Selina Kyle popped her whip just a few inches above Wayne’s bare chest. She was standing at the foot of the bed, one leg up on the footboard, and grinning evilly down at the helpless figure of Bruce Wayne. She was barely wearing more than he was: stiletto heels with thigh-high stockings and a lacey, nearly translucent, set of black lingerie. Her short, black hair was tucked into the cat-eared cowl of her old costume, long unused.  
  
  
  
“The great Batman, helpless at last.” She purred, cracking the whip one more time, slightly disappointed that Bruce didn’t flinch as the cord snapped only scant inches from his flesh. “Any last words, great detective?”  
  
  
  
“...” Bruce raised one eyebrow. “...was I supposed to have dialogue prepared?”  
  
  
  
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bruce.” Selina planted her face in one open palm, shaking her head from side to side. “Would it kill you to play along?”  
  
  
  
“I’m trying, Selina. Really.” He looked at the fuzzy handcuffs binding his wrists. “I’m just not sure where to go with this scenario.”  
  
  
  
“Are you telling me that you spent all those years training with ninjas and fighting bears-”  
  
  
  
“Bears?”  
  
  
  
“Yeah, fighting bears in Siberia or whatever.”  
  
  
  
“I never fought any bears. Beating up dumb beasts isn’t training, it’s just animal cruelty.”  
  
  
  
“Whatever!” Selina growled. “You spent all those years training and getting like fifty PHDs and you didn’t take a single improv class?”  
  
  
  
“I took ballet for my arts and humanities credits.” Bruce’s answer didn’t contain a trace of irony or humor. “It provided excellent flexibility and movement training.”  
  
  
  
“Grrrrr…”  
  
  
  
“Look, Selina, I’m sorry. Why don’t we keep going...I’ll try and do better. I promise.”  
  
  
  
“Fine.” Selina coiled up the whip, setting it aside, and did her best not to let the interruption ruin her mood. She took a few deep breaths before the wide, wicked smile returned to her face. “I have you now, Batman. Right where I want you!”  
  
  
  
“You’ll...never get away with this, Catwoman!” Bruce’s dialogue was spoken like an amateur actor reading from a script. “I’ll get out of here and put you behind bars...right?”  
  
  
  
 _Oh God...at least he’s trying_. Selina did her best to suppress a grimace at his terrible acting. “Now, now Batman...don’t pretend like this isn’t what you want as well. This isn’t the first time I’ve had you tied up...I could see the bulge in those little black tights. I think you might enjoy being at my mercy, Dark Knight!”  
  
  
  
As she spoke, she crawled onto the bed, slowly prowling towards Bruce’s bound form. She let her fingers trace their way over the surface of the silk sheets, making an appreciative noise as she found the outline where the sheets molded themselves against Bruce’s semi-hard manhood. He may not be very imaginative but a big cock, along with years of flexibility and endurance training, made up for a lot of shortcomings.  
  
  
  
“I wear a cup.”  
  
  
  
“What.” Selina’s voice was deadpan as she glared up at Bruce, distracted by the non-sequitur.  
  
  
  
“My costume.” He explained calmly. “It has a rigid protective jockstrap built-in. An erection would be impossible to detect. Also, I can't recall any such incident.”  
  
  
  
“Bruce…” She looked at him with a pleading expression, unable to believe he was really talking about his costume’s armored crotch right now. “Bruce...it’s just dirty talk. Don’t you know how this works?”  
  
  
  
“Of course, but surely it would be better if it were more accurate.”  
  
  
  
Selina just stared at him, her mouth pursed tightly and her eyes wide with frustration and disbelief. Bruce stared back, a slightly confused expression on his face, apparently unsure what the problem was.  
  
  
  
“Forget it!” Selina snarled, yanking the silk sheets back and revealing Bruce’s full body. The night was cloudy but the dim moonlight from the bedroom window still glistened on his taut muscles and she could make out the faint scars of old battles. Some she may have even left herself.  
  
  
  
 _I’ll give him a few more if he doesn’t shut up._  
  
  
  
Giving up on the roleplay, she took his cock in her hands, feeling the satisfying heat and weight of it. The tiny little jerks it made as it stiffened at her touch until it stood fully erect. Despite the frustration at Bruce’s denseness, the sight of him still ignited a hot, tight feeling in the pit of her stomach. With one hand she started to stroke the shaft of his cock gently up and down, appreciating the gleam of moonlight on the smooth, firm head and the feeling of his rapid heartbeat against her palm.  
  
  
  
Her other hand slid between her legs. Despite Bruce’s best efforts, she was already wet and eager. It had been several nights since they’d made love...he was always out on patrol...or planning his next patrol...or recovering from injuries sustained during his last patrol. Dating a superhero had been more difficult than she had anticipated. Sometimes it seemed like they had seen more of one another when he had been foiling her crimes than they did now that they were a couple.  
  
  
  
Those bitter thoughts slowly dissolved as she worked her fingers around her damp clit and ran her tongue across her lips, tinted dark red by her lipstick. She leaned in and brushed her cheek against the hard length of his cock, turning her head to run her lips lightly along his shaft. She slowly moved her way up his cock, teasing with tiny kisses until she reached the tip.  
  
  
  
 _God, I needed this so badly...I feel like I’m about to come just from sucking him off._  
  
  
  
Her lips were just starting to close around the tip when Bruce’s entire body jerked, straining against the handcuffs. At first, she thought he was just getting into the blowjob, but then he spoke.  
  
  
  
“Selina!” His voice was tense. The stern growl of Batman replacing the laconic, cultured drawl of Bruce Wayne. “I need to go!”  
  
  
  
She followed his gaze to the window and her heart fell. The cloud cover was thin and wispy but the beam of light shining against it cast a clear, distinct image. A bright spotlight with the emblem of the bat in its center.  
  
  
  
“No!” She sat up, crossing her arms over her breasts and glaring down at him. “No, you said you’d take the night off! This was supposed to be our night!”  
  
  
  
“I said I wouldn’t go on patrol, this is different!” The voice of Bruce Wayne was completely subsumed, replaced by the harsher tones of the dark knight. He was still naked but spiritually he was already in his costume...driven by the role he had chosen. “The city needs me! Get the keys and unlock these things!”  
  
  
  
She turned her back to him, tears stinging her eyes beneath the lenses of her cowl. She knew she was being unreasonable...knowing Gotham, people might be dying right now. Two-Face or Scarecrow or the Joker might be preparing to use the citizens of the city as pawns in some kind of bizarre murder game. But she couldn’t help but feel jealous that Bruce was being taken away from her. Again.  
  
  
  
“Not going to happen.” She pouted. “You are going to stay cuffed to that bed until we have a good, long f-”  
  
  
  
“Fine.” His voice was terse. There was the sound of clinking metal and a pair of rapid snaps. The pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs sailed past her and clattered onto the floor. “I don’t need keys. Just get out of my way.”  
  
  
  
She watched helplessly as he popped open the cuffs on his feet and strode across the room, not bothering to don a robe or pants. His real outfit would be waiting for him downstairs. Touching a panel on the wall caused an antique dresser to slide away, revealing one of the mansion’s many entrances to the Batcave.  
  
  
  
“I’ll see you when I get back.” He didn’t look back at her but his voice was slightly softened. A hint of Bruce Wayne creeping back in.  
  
  
  
“Maybe…” She muttered...but he had already gone, stepping into the concealed elevator and whisked away into the depths underneath the manor. She was alone in the bedroom, a frustrated, throbbing feeling between her thighs as she wondered how long it would be before they had another chance like this.  
  
  
  
With a sigh, she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as she pondered what had brought her to this situation...or she would have if she could remember.  
  
  
  
That yawning gap in her memories was the reason she had given up her life of crime. She had dim memories in mid-October...something about an auction...a hazy recollection of the thrill she received when preparing for a theft…and then nothing.  
  
  
  
The next thing she knew, she was on an ice-slick rooftop above Gotham City with Batman...Bruce...standing over her. The fiery reds and oranges of trees in fall were replaced by bare branches...the crisp autumn air had turned frigid and the pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns were now Christmas wreaths and ornaments. Once she had regained her faculties, Bruce had told her that she had apparently been working with the Penguin. Some kind of mind control.  
  
  
  
The experience had left her shaken. Fortunately, the Penguin hadn’t seemed interested in unearthing her personal life...her hidden bank accounts and safehouses were untouched...and her neighbor had noticed her cats weren’t being fed and took them in. But it was still disturbing. One mistake, a mistake that she couldn’t even remember, and suddenly months of her life were just...gone.  
  
  
  
It was enough to make her consider an early retirement. She had convinced herself it was only temporary but she hadn’t left Wayne manor in weeks, let alone considered stealing so much as a candy bar. Tonight was the first time she had even put on her cowl in over three months. She and Bruce had always had...chemistry...and despite his denseness, he seemed to sense how shaken she was by the whole thing. He had been accommodating, giving her a place she could feel safe. And it hadn’t taken long for their relationship to turn more physical and before long they were practically married.  
  
  
  
Which was probably the problem. If they were just costumed criminals with benefits then she probably wouldn’t care how often he went haring out into the Gotham nights. But now...it felt like abandonment. It felt lonely. For a while, their budding relationship kept him at home more often, only donning the cowl when the Bat-Signal lit up the sky. But it had been only a temporary distraction...he began going out on patrols again...and then he was out more nights than he was in. She had managed to briefly distract him from his crusade but the city just wouldn’t let him go.  
  
  
  
With a sigh, she rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, planning to take a shower and jill herself off in order to forget about tonight’s frustration. Her hand was only inches away from the bathroom’s lightswitch when she froze in place, a chill running down her spine. She looked around, uncertain if she had really heard something or if she was just imagining things.  
  
  
  
  
  
 _Selina Kyle_  
  
  
  
It was clearer that time, undeniable. Her name drifted through her mind, bypassing her eardrums entirely and simply appearing inside her head. There was no voice, no pitch or timbre to identify its owner...but it was still undeniably familiar. She spun around, ready to run or fight.  
  
  
  
  
  
 _Selina Kyle_  
  
  
  
  
  
Her name echoed through her mind once more. Her pupils dilated, her battle-ready posture relaxing as the silent words brushed aside her fear. It brought to mind the feeling of having her hair brushed by someone else...a tingling sensation of relaxation and smoothness but on the inside of her skull.  
  
  
  
 _Selina Kyle_  
  
  
  
  
  
Her eyes were vacant now as she struggled to remember why the voice was so familiar…  
  
  
  
*******  
  
  
  
In a somewhat less opulent and old-fashioned bedroom, Oswald Cobblepot looked up from his writing desk when he heard a faint, scratching noise at the window behind him. So faint that he likely wouldn’t have heard it at all unless he was waiting for just such a noise.  
  
  
  
“You can come right in, my dear.” He rose to his feet, setting down the note he had been writing. He began to un-knot his bow tie. “The window isn’t locked and I’ve disabled the security system.”  
  
  
  
His back still to the window, he tossed his bow tie onto the desk and undid the first two buttons on his white dress shirt (his black jacket having already been sent for cleaning), revealing curly black and gray chest hairs. Behind him, he could hear the click of the window opening and the soft sound of well-oiled hinges being slowly swung open. He grinned triumphantly and unconsciously patted his pants pocket, confirming that his pocket watch was in place.  
  
  
  
“I’m so glad you could find the place.” He picked up a smoldering cigar from the ashtray on the desk and took a long drag, savoring the aroma for a moment before blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. “I was worried you had forgotten all about me.”  
  
  
  
“I know who you are, Penguin.” The silky voice caused Cobblepot’s grin to widen. She was trying to sound contemptuous and tough but he could hear the uncertainty in her voice.  
  
  
  
He turned around and raised an eyebrow when he saw how Selina Kyle was dressed. She had her cowl on, but in place of her usual skintight costume, she was wearing what looked like a man’s heavy trench coat, with her whip serving as an impromptu belt. The long coat nearly brushed the floor but as she climbed down from the window sill the coat parted enough to show a flash of her long legs, clad only in sheer, black stockings. The way she tightly gripped the coat’s lapels indicated she was likely wearing very little underneath.  
  
  
  
His satisfaction turned sour when his eyes landed on the monogrammed initials on the shoulder of the coat: BW.  
  
  
  
 _Wayne._  
  
  
  
Kuttler’s information was correct, apparently. His eyes narrowed at the thought of his kitten being pawed and petted by the dumb, clumsy hands of that vapid playboy. His jaw tightened and he could taste the bitter flavor of dried tobacco as his teeth tore through the tough paper of his cigar. He tossed the ruined stub into the ice-bucket where a bottle of champagne sat chilling. If all she had wanted was to attach herself to a wealthy man, like a common gold-digger, then why run off in the first place?  
  
  
  
Selina seemed to sense some of Cobblepot’s irritation because she took an involuntary step back. For a moment, it looked like she might try and run, escape back into the night.  
  
  
  
“Selina Kyle.” He placed his palm in his pocket, stroking his fingers over the watch and forced a smile to his lips as he rolled her name slowly off of his tongue. “I am so happy to see you back again...although I’m surprised by your choice of outfit. It looks a tad...drafty.”  
  
  
  
The sound of her name had an immediate effect on Selina. She swayed slightly from side to side and her eyes became foggy and half-lidded under the lenses of her cowl.  
  
  
  
“I…” She started to speak, looking down at how she was dressed...trying to understand why she had chosen to race across the rooftops of Gotham city dressed like this. Before she and Bruce had started their roleplaying session she had put most of her clothes down the laundry chute for that stick-in-the-mud butler to take care of, leaving her with nothing but the stockings and lingerie she had been wearing.  
  
  
  
Bruce’s clothes were all ridiculously large on her slender frame so that left her no option but to cover herself as best she could with the trenchcoat and venture out. But...but why did she feel like she had to come here…?  
  
  
  
“Don’t worry about it, my kitten.” Cobblepot approached her, one hand in his pocket. Some part of her felt like it wouldn’t be wise to let him get too close...but she didn’t want to seem frightened so she stood her ground as he approached, eyeing her appreciatively. “I’m just so happy you could make it to our little reunion tonight.”  
  
  
  
“I’m not here for a reunion, Penguin.” She snapped. Or at least, she had meant to. Her voice came out flatter and softer than she had intended. “I’m here because...because…”  
  
  
  
“Oh?” Cobblepot smiled, stepping around her to close the window and draw the curtains. She made no move to stop him, her mouth still working soundlessly as she tried to put the cause for her actions into words. “Please go on my dear Selina...what brought you here tonight.”  
  
  
  
“You did something to me…” Something startling and revelatory flashed into her mind but it was gone just as quickly, like a brightly colored fish darting through dark waters. “...last year. You did something to me...I’m here to find out what.”  
  
  
  
“Are you sure about that?” Cobblepot walked up behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. There was a tremble up her spine as he did so, but she made no move to pull away. “Maybe...there’s something else bothering you, my kitten?”  
  
  
  
“No...I mean, maybe…” The thought of her interrupted night with Bruce floated up from the foggy depths of her mind. She was suddenly aware that she was wearing only flimsy black lingerie beneath her heavy trench coat and she couldn’t help but notice a faint, lingering ache between her legs, the smoldering embers of frustrated desire. “That...that isn’t why I’m here...I think.”  
  
  
  
“It’s alright, my kitten.” With gentle pressure, the Penguin guided her towards the large, luxurious bed at the far end of the room. It was a circular waterbed with black and white silk sheets. Selina, eyes heavy and unfocused, didn’t resist and even obediently sat down on the edge of the bed without prompting. “It’s that idiot Wayne, isn’t it? He’s not meeting your needs, I wager.”  
  
  
  
Selina looked up at Cobblepot with a vaguely quizzical expression, widening her vacant eyes in mild surprise. How had he known about Bruce? How did he know that they were having problems? She looked down at the sheets, running her fingers over them and feeling the gentle give of the waterbed. Why did this bed feel so familiar?  
  
  
  
“Focus, my little runaway.” The Cobblepot snapped his fingers, his thick knuckles making a sound like a gunshot, and Selina’s head snapped back up at attention, gazing into his eyes. “What do you want? Tell me...or better yet, show me.”  
  
  
  
Selina bit her lips, uncertain. She felt like she could almost remember the months she had lost the year before...a vague cloud of sensations and desires. It pulled at her, a strange, unnatural yearning, but she still hesitated.  
  
  
  
“Selina Kyle.” Cobblepot’s eyes were still locked with hers and although his voice was quiet she could feel the sound of her name echoing through her body. Brushing over her skin. Vibrating along every nerve and vein. Even her bones trembled at the feeling of her name in his mouth. “Show me.”  
  
  
  
Before she could process her own response she was on her feet, looking down at Cobblepot as he smiled triumphantly up at her. Her hands were on her makeshift belt, unwinding her whip from around her waist.  
  
  
  
_This is fine._ She told herself, coming up with justifications half a second after every action she took. _Bruce doesn’t appreciate me...he doesn’t deserve me...maybe he’s due a little payback._  
  
  
  
She tossed the whip aside and slowly opened the beige trench coat, letting it fall down her arms until it lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. For a moment she just stood there, allowing Cobblepot to run his eyes up and down her body. He made an appreciative rumble in his throat as he took in her black bra and matching panties, the sheer stockings that ran all the way up to mid-thigh and the black high-heels she had donned before leaving the manor.  
  
  
  
“Selina...my little alley cat...it’s so good to have you back where you belong.” He bent down and picked up the crumpled trench coat, sneering at the Wayne monogram as he tossed it to one side. “I’ll have that burned. Now that you’re back, there’s no need to think about that insipid dolt Wayne ever again.”  
  
  
  
Selina nodded, absent-mindedly brushing strands of her short black hair behind her ear. Why bother with Bruce anymore...why stay with someone who’d rather lurk on rainswept rooftops than share her bed? Cobblepot placed one of his meaty hands on her shoulder, reaching up slightly to make up for the difference in height. His grip was tight. Possessive.  
  
  
  
She reached out, running her hand along the fabric of Cobblepot’s shirt. Her hand drifted along his shoulder, then down to his stout, barrel chest. With an expression of need and hunger, she began to unbutton his white shirt but Cobblepot suddenly pulled back, snatching both her hands in his. His grip on her wrists was almost painful and she could see a hint of wicked spite in his eyes.  
  
  
  
“You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? Is my sweet little kitten in heat?”  
  
  
  
Selina was dizzy and lightheaded as he pulled her closer, his scent filling her head: a thick musk of tobacco smoke, alcohol, cologne and a hint of sweat. The scent was so deeply familiar but the only memories it triggered were vague, flitting shadows in the dim corners of her mind. But her body was responding, her legs trembling as that smell filled her lungs. Her stomach felt tight, trembling as her face and chest heated with desire. There was no use denying it now. This wasn’t just about petty revenge on Bruce...she wanted Cobblepot.  
  
  
  
“That’s what I thought.” He responded to her unspoken thought, his beady eyes were looking right through her. “But that isn’t enough...you’ll have to ask for it.”  
  
  
  
“I…” She trailed off, looking at the floor. Her body was screaming for it but her mind was still conflicted. Bruce’s face flashed through her mind. Should she really be doing this?  
  
  
  
“Say it, Selina Kyle.”  
  
  
  
“I want you.” Her response was immediate, free of any hesitation. Bruce’s face faded from her thoughts.  
  
  
  
“Now, now, my kitten.” Cobblepot shook his head. “You can’t run off for months and behave like this. Tell me exactly what you want.”  
  
  
  
“I...want you to fuck me. I want you to lay me down on that bed and fuck my cunt with your…” There was a moment of hesitation where she tried to stop but the words burst out of her lips, almost against her will. “...With your hard, fat cock. I want you to fuck my brains out. I want to feel you come inside me and fill me up. I want--mmpph.”  
  
  
  
The words were spilling out of her until Cobblepot released her wrists and pulled her head down, pressing their lips together, claiming them forcefully. As his tongue met hers she tasted the heady mix of alcohol and cigars, making her knees weak as she returned the kiss enthusiastically. Her fingers kneaded the cloth of his shirt. Cobblepot’s other hand slid around the small of her back, pulling her waist against him. She could feel the hot, firm bulge through the front of his pants, their height difference causing it to press directly against the growing wetness on the front of her panties and the overstimulated, throbbing heat beneath the fabric.  
  
  
  
His hand crept lower until it was cupping the smooth curve of her ass, barely hidden by the sheer black fabric of her lingerie. He gave it an appreciative squeeze as he slid lower, slipping his fingers into the gap between the back of her thighs. His thick, blunt fingertips rubbed against the silky fabric of her panties, slipping the material between the wet lips of her pussy and catching her clitoris between his probing fingers and the hard lump pressing against the fabric of his pants. She groaned in pleasure, the sound muffled by his mouth still pressed tightly to hers. She sucked and licked eagerly at the tip of his tongue until he slowly pulled back for a breath.  
  
  
  
They were both breathing heavily now, her breasts heaving wonderfully against his chin. Feeling self-indulgent, he leaned forward and buried his face between them, rubbing against the silk of her bra and the warmth of her skin. His long nose pushed into her cleavage and he breathed deeply, the odor was a wonderful mixture of sweat, light perfume and the indefinable scent of warm skin and desire. As he continued to fondle her pussy through the fabric of her panties she nuzzled against the top of his head, making incoherent sounds of pleasure and desire.  
  
  
  
“You’re dripping wet, my kitten.” He punctuated his words by increasing the speed of his finger’s movements. “I knew you’d be back. A slut like you could never stay away.”  
  
  
  
“Hnng…” She balled his shirts between her fingers as his fingers circled her clit through the damp fabric. “I...I didn’t come here to be teased. If you’re going to fuck me, then stop messing around and fuck me.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot pushed her back, almost knocking her back onto the bed. She almost tossed herself the rest of the way, eager to lay back...have him rip at her clothes...shove his cock up her hot, wet cunt...fuck her until her mind went white and she could barely walk. But his hand on her arm caught her short as he glared sternly at her.  
  
  
  
“You’ve gone stray for too long, kitten. It seems like you’ve forgotten how this works...you’ll do as you’re told. Now, on your knees, Selena Kyle.”  
  
  
  
Before she could respond, Selina felt her knees hitting the thick carpet as she knelt in front of Cobblepot. She was going to protest, tell Cobblepot that this would be done her way or she was out of there...and then she was already on the ground. Too late for defiant words, she could only look sullenly up at Cobblepot as he grinned down at her with that smug, lopsided grin of his. He cupped one cheek affectionately and tousled her messy black hair, still damp from the sweat built up beneath her cowl.  
  
  
  
“That’s a good kitten. Who says cats can’t be trained to follow commands?” He snapped his fingers imperiously. “Let’s have that bra off to start with.”  
  
  
  
Selina muttered something under her breath...or thought about it...at the very least she felt she should have. But nevertheless, she obediently reached up and unhooked her bra and let the straps fall from her shoulders before tossing it to one side. Feeling oddly shy as Cobblepot stared smugly down at her, she considered covering herself with her hands...but there was really no point, he’d just order her to show him to spite her. It’d be less embarrassing to just let him ogle her. She could still feel her face and chest warming with embarrassment as he took in the soft curve of her bare breasts and the firm, pink tips of her nipples standing out in the chilly night air.  
  
  
  
“Beautiful.” He murmured appreciatively. “Now, before I fill that tight, little hole of yours I think you owe me an apology for running off like you did. Now...how do you think a shameless slut like you can earn your forgiveness? What are you good for?”  
  
  
  
Her gaze fell from his eyes down to the bulging fly of his trousers. Without being told, she reached up and undid the button and slowly unzipped them. Her rapid heartbeat sped up further as she pulled down Cobblepot’s blue-and-white striped boxers, releasing his hard, stout cock.  
  
  
  
“That’s right. I need to feel appreciated too, you know? Show me how much you’ve missed it.”  
  
  
  
Selina’s fingers curled around his shaft, her other hand rising to cup his testicles as she began to slowly stroke the length of him. He was hot, throbbing against her fingers and palms, and without being told what to do she leaned forward and stroked her face against his cock, nuzzling it like an affectionate cat rubbing against her owner. A tiny, confused part of her mind still wondered why she had come here...why she would ever want to do this...but it was drowned out by the warm, cloying fog of desire that filled her brain. She felt like she was in a sauna, hot all over and almost deliriously light-headed. That tiny voice inside became fainter and fainter as she ran her tongue up the length of Cobblepot’s cock.  
  
  
  
She gave him several long, slow licks, each running from the base all the way to the head. As she heard him groan with appreciation she wanted to lower one of her hands between her legs where her aching pussy was begging to be touched, begging to come. But that felt...wrong. Greedy. He had wanted her to show her appreciation and, for reasons she couldn’t entirely grasp, she didn’t want him to think that she was letting herself get distracted.  
  
  
  
She scooted forward slightly on her knees, bringing herself closer and brought her chest level with Cobblepot’s waist. Pumping his shaft with her fingers, she pressed her breasts against him, his hard cock hot against the cool skin of her chest. Lowering her head, she licked the firm, gleaming head of his cock as it peeked out between her breasts, moistening it with her saliva. Squeezing her breasts together on both sides she began to move, sliding the length of his stout cock up and down between her breasts.  
  
  
  
“Do you feel appreciated now?” She didn’t need to ask, the ecstatic groan Cobblepot was making and the jerking of his cock with each stroke was more than enough. “Do you like fucking my tits, Penguin?”  
  
  
  
“Divine...simply divine…” Cobblepot muttered, eyes closed as Selina continued to slide her wet skin along the shaft of his cock. With each stroke the tip of his cock would vanish completely between her breasts, buried in the soft flesh, only to emerge once more on the back stroke, glistening and eager. Keeping her head down, she allowed the tip to slide between her lips each time it emerged and gave it a playful flick with her tongue.  
  
  
  
Feeling more in control as she listened to Cobblepot’s involuntary murmurs of pleasure, she showed no restraint: squeezing her breasts tightly around his shaft to put more pressure on it and sticking out her tongue so that his head slid across it with each stroke. She could feel the throbbing heat intensify and his cock began to twitch and jerk within the soft confines of her cleavage.  
  
  
  
“Ready to come already, Oswald?” Despite her bold tone, her voice was rough as she panted and gulped air as each thrust plunged his cock into her mouth. “Going to...mmm...spray all over my chest? So...undignified...just like a teenager...mmfh...getting their first...mmm..titty fuck...”  
  
  
  
“A mere...ah...prelude, my kitten.” Despite his arrogant tone, Cobblepot was struggling to keep his legs steady as Selina took his cock in her mouth once more, circling her tongue around its tip and sucking audibly. “But I prefer...mmm...prefer not to worry about clean-up until after I’m done with you, so…”  
  
  
  
While she still held him in her mouth he reached down, placing both hands on the back of her head, fingers curled into her dark hair. With a thrust of his hips and pressure on the back of her head, he shoved his cock further through her lips, pulling it free of her breasts as he pushed her face all the way down to its base.  
  
  
  
“Aaaaah...that’s it. Now Selina...you’re going to swallow every drop...just like the good old days.”  
  
  
  
Selina could only respond with a muffled moan but as Cobblepot’s cock filled her mouth but she obediently relaxed her throat, readying herself for his climax. His cock seemed to expand, pulsing against the back of her throat and tears stung her eyes as she struggled to take the whole thing. She kept her hands on her breasts, pressing them together and upwards, cupping Cobblepot’s testicles between them and tickling her nipples against his hairy legs.  
  
  
  
“Yes...there we go! Have some...nn...cum for your whore mouth.”  
  
  
  
Her eyes rolled back as he came in her mouth, delirious from lust and light-headed from the need for air. She closed her lips tight as jets of his semen coated her mouth and tongue, making sure not to let a drop slip by. With soft slurping noises her throat worked to gulp down each spurt of cum. Inside her mouth, she ran her tongue along the pulsating ridge running along the shaft of his cock, her warm, wet strokes coaxing out more spurts of jizz.  
  
  
  
It was several moments before Cobblepot finally released his grip on her hair, momentarily spent. With one last, long slurp, Selina pulled her head back and allowed his cock to slip out of her lips, slick and clean. She fell back, leaning against the bed and gasping for air. Her entire body was tingling like pins and needles running along her arms, face and the still-slick skin of her breasts.  
  
  
  
Breathing heavily, Cobblepot let himself fall back onto the bed, pants still around his knees. The waterbed rippled slightly as he fell onto it. It was, naturally, one of the more expensive “low-wave” models with a built in heater, so his impact merely set the bed jiggling slightly as it gave rather than jostling and flopping him.  
  
  
  
“Glorious…” He stared up at the ceiling, catching his breath. “I’ve truly missed you, my kitten...but hunger is truly the greatest spice.”  
  
  
  
Selina wiped her lips with the back of her hand and turned to peer over the edge of the bed at Cobblepot’s supine form. To her surprise she could see his sturdy penis still erect, its length still glistening from her saliva as it stood rigidly at attention. Cobblepot seemed to feel the intensity of her gaze and glanced over, noticing her wide eyes fixated on his erection.  
  
  
  
“Impressed?” He smirked, enjoying the attention. She looked like a cat fixated on a twitching toy, alert and ready to pounce. “In anticipation of our little rendezvous I took the liberty of taking a small…’herbal supplement’. I knew you’d be eager, and I wanted to make sure our first night together in so long was memorable.”  
  
  
  
Again, that small little voice in her head spoke up...how did he know she would come to see him tonight? Why on Earth would she come to see him in the first place? What happened between them, during that gap in her memories? She shook her head slightly, trying to get her thoughts in order.  
  
  
  
“What’s the matter, Selina?” He arched an eyebrow, playfully stroking his hard cock as she watched. “Intimidated?”  
  
  
  
As soon as he said her name, Selina’s eyes became glassy and unfocused once more. That hot, cloying fog rolled over her mind again and the tiny voice of doubt and concern was lost once more. None of that was really important right now, was it? She was here because she wanted to be here. She was doing this because she wanted to. Why did she need more justification?  
  
  
  
Reaching down, she pulled her heels off and tossed them to one side, on top of the discarded bra. Rising to her feet, she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and began to slowly pull them down, turning to show off the curve of her ass as the scant black fabric was peeled away. Soon they also joined the pile of discarded clothing. Now, wearing only her sheer black stockings, she climbed onto the bed and began to crawl towards Cobblepot on all fours.  
  
  
  
“Still in heat, my kitten?” He patted the waterbed invitingly. “I’ve got exactly what you need right here: a nice, hard cock. Ready and waiting.”  
  
  
  
Her only response was a feral noise of hunger, half-snarl, half-purr. She reached his supine body and grabbed his pants, tugging forcefully to yank them off of his legs. Cobblepot laughed at her ferocity.  
  
  
  
“Dear lord, Wayne must have been a complete fool...letting a straying kitten like you go hungry, he should have known you’d end up running away from home.”  
  
  
  
“Hmmph...are you going to...unf...talk all night?” She grunted as she finally tugged his trousers and boxers free, throwing them off the edge of the bed. Throwing one leg over his prone form, she straddled him and climbed up his body until she was looking down at him. “Or are you going to fuck me already!”  
  
  
  
To punctuate her statement, she reached down and grabbed the front of his half-unbuttoned shirt. With a sharp yank, she pulled it apart, sending mother-of-pearl buttons skittering across the bed and flying into the corners of the room. His hairy, barrel-shaped chest glistened with a thin sheen of sweat.  
  
  
  
“Damn it, woman! Those aren’t cheap, you know!”  
  
  
  
She responded by grabbing the firm shaft of his cock, positioned right in front of her waist, and rubbing it roughly up and down as she rocked her hips back and forth. “Stop whining about buttons and fuck me already?”  
  
  
  
“Impatient little whore, aren’t you, my kitten? Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He reached up, clamping those thick-fingered hands of his around her waist and pulling her forward until the smooth, wet skin of her shaved pussy slid over the hot, hard length of his cock. She continued rocking her hips, sliding against and over him with a moan of pleasure.  
  
  
  
“I want it…” Her eyes were closed, her voice husky with desire. “I want you to put your thick cock in my hot, wet cunt. I want you to fuck me until it hurts. Fuck me until I can’t walk. Until I can’t think anymore.”  
  
  
  
Cobblepot’s lopsided grin grew wider as he smiled up at her from the bed. This vantage point gave him a glorious view of her body: her stocking-clad legs straddling him, her slim, sweat-beaded stomach flexing as she moved her hips, her incredible breasts gleaming as the moonlight picked out their curves and the firm points of her nipples...and finally her face, that beautiful, heart-shaped face framed by a halo of black hair. Her face was locked in an expression of ecstatic anticipation, mouth half-open and eyelashes fluttering. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease her just a bit longer.  
  
  
  
“Mmmmm…” He murmured with a false air of thoughtfulness. “You know, perhaps we should be careful...I have a roll of condoms in the nightstand if you want…?”  
  
  
  
Selina’s response was to stare at him for a moment before her eyes narrowed. Pulling with the fistful of shirt still bunched in her hands she pressed her waist against his, squeezing the length of his cock between his torso and the molten, throbbing heat between her legs, grinding with enough force that it was almost painful (but far from unpleasant).  
  
  
  
“Fuck that.” She snarled. “You are going to take that fat, bare cock and you are going to fuck my cunt raw until you come inside me!”  
  
  
  
“Your wish is my command.” Cobblepot pushed her hips back, lifting her waist enough that his stiff cock had the clearance to rise up into the air once more...perfectly in line with the puffy, eager lips of her vagina. Without hesitation, he pulled her forcefully down onto it.  
  
  
  
As soon as she felt him begin to slide inside, Selina thrust herself downwards with enough force to almost knock the breath from Cobblepot, gloriously impaling herself on his erection. The feeling of relief as her pussy slid all the way down to the base of his cock and tightened around it was almost enough to make her faint. It was like a luxury banquet thrown for a starving man or a frozen hiker plunging into a piping hot bath, her hunger had been so intense that the feeling of gratification was now practically unbearable. She threw back her head with a ragged cry of joy, almost coming merely from the feeling of being filled by him.  
  
  
  
For a moment she just stayed like that, legs spread over his prone body, knees sinking into the warmth of the waterbed, head tilted and body arched backward, thrusting her breasts upward as she trembled. From her open lips came a quiet, drawn-out sigh.  
  
  
  
Her hips broke that stillness on their own, her body too eager for release to wait for instructions from her addled mind. They began to rock back and forth, slowly at first but as the tingling heat of his cock inside her began to spread she started to increase the speed of her movements.  
  
  
  
“That’s right, Selina...” Cobblepot groaned, breathing heavily as Selina began to roll her hips more forcefully. “Such a shameless whore...this is exactly where you belong. Riding my cock.”  
  
  
  
“You’re right. Oh god...nnnnnnh…” She moaned, using the remains of his shirt in her hands like reins as she ground his cock deeper into her pussy. “...God, I am a whore...fuck me…fuck me like a whore! It’s what I want!”  
  
  
  
“Good to see...hah...that you know your place, Selina.” He punctuated the statement by pulling one hand away from her waist and slapping it sharply against the curve of her ass. Selina let out a high pitched gasp, shaking as the sudden shock caused her pussy to clench around his cock. “This is what you are...you’re mine. You’re my whore. My slut. My dirty little stray. And I’m going to teach you...heh...teach you to never run off again.”  
  
  
  
“I won’t, I promise!” Selina was begging now, although she still didn’t entirely comprehend the meaning of his words...but the roiling fog in her mind was too thick to try and solve the puzzle. “I promise to stay if you just...AAH! Just...keep...ah...keep fucking me...fuck me so hard I can’t leave again.”  
  
  
  
As she shook and panted he gripped her waist tightly, pulling her up until she almost slid off his cock completely before slamming her back down, thrusting the entire length back inside of her in one ferocious movement. Each time she writhed and trembled, struggling to avoid slipping free of him, only to shake and moan as he pulled her back down, filling her completely once more.  
  
  
  
“Harder.” Selina groaned as the air rushed out of her as she was slammed down once more. The force of the motion made her breasts bounce, scattering tiny beads of sweat that caught the moonlight like tiny gemstones. “Harder! Fuck me harder…aaah...fuck my brains out!!”  
  
  
  
“Hngh!” Sweat was beading on Cobblepot’s forehead and chest and he could feel himself getting close, each stroke bringing him closer and closer to the edge of climax. “Show some...huugh...respect, bitch. I’ll do...hm...do what I like to-”  
  
  
  
Before he could continue his breathless statement, Selina pulled him into a half-seated position by the lapels of his ruined shirt and pressed her body against him. Her pale, perfect breasts pressed against the black-and-gray hair of his chest as the two of them writhed against one another. Her lips met his shoulder and, moving clumsily and blindly her lips and tongue moved up his neck, her teeth pressing softly against the outline of his jaw as she moaned against him. Finally, her lips found his and she devoured them greedily, sucking his lower lip between her teeth then pressing her tongue inside his mouth to meet his.  
  
  
  
She moaned wordlessly into his mouth as she came, the walls of her pussy contracting in faster and faster waves until it finally tightened like a wet, silken fist around his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer either and he pulled her waist tightly against his as he came, his cock pulsing as he came inside her.  
  
  
  
For weeks after she had left he had gone through dozens of prostitutes, often forced to wear duplicates of her catsuits, in an attempt to fill the hole she had left. But weeks, and then months, of angry, resentful sex hadn’t satisfied him and eventually, he stopped hiring prostitutes entirely (much to their relief). Even masturbation had no charm anymore, so for the last three months, Oswald Cobblepot had been entirely celibate, stewing on months worth of pent up libido.  
  
  
  
The titjob earlier had only been the tip of the iceberg. Now that he was in her pussy once again those months of neglect finally erupted in a volcano of hot, sticky cum as he unleashed an entire season’s worth of blue balls directly into his straying Catwoman.  
  
  
  
Selina pulled her mouth free of his as he filled her pussy with cum, releasing a ragged sigh of relief and pleasure as he filled her and then continued to pump more into her until the thick, white liquid leaked from the wet lips of her cunt. Her hands tightened around his shirt and then went slack, releasing him to fall back into the jiggling embrace of the waterbed before collapsing on top of him herself, pussy still filled with his cock.  
  
  
  
They laid like this, breathless and spent, for several minutes before she finally rolled off and fell onto the rippling surface of the bed herself. She was barely conscious, half-faint from exhaustion and pleasure.  
  
  
  
  
  
*********  
  
  
  
It was hard to say how long Selina Kyle lay on the bed but Cobblepot was snoring softly when she managed to gather enough wherewithal to consider doing something other than staring blankly up at the ceiling.  
  
  
  
Still feeling weak, she sat up (struggling slightly with the unfamiliar give of the waterbed) and slid off the bed. She was so light-headed that when she did stand up the rush of blood to her head made her almost collapse back onto the bed she had just vacated.  
  
  
  
For a moment she just stood there, taking in Cobblepot’s room and slowly processing what had happened tonight. She was sweaty and clammy, a cold stickiness between her legs where Cobblepot’s semen had splashed out of her. She felt simultaneously satisfied and ashamed.  
  
  
  
_Why on Earth did I do this? What the fuck was I thinking?_ She looked over at the window she had entered the room from, wondering if she should go back to the manor. An image of that dark, empty bedroom flashed into her mind. Even if Wayne was back in the manor, he probably wouldn’t come back to bed until well after dawn...he’d be down in that damn cave...sitting in front of that ridiculously oversized computer. Or maybe he’d be on the operating table as that elderly butler yanked bullet fragments from between his ribs and stitched up his wounds.  
  
  
  
But it hadn’t been all bad either. There had been good times...and of all people why had she come to Cobblepot for this act of petty, sexual revenge? That thought triggered something...a realization that she felt like should be obvious but it kept slipping away as she tried to focus on it.  
  
  
  
_I need a shower._  
  
  
  
That decision seemed sound. No matter what she did next, she needed to clean herself up. She couldn’t go back to the manor with the Penguin’s jizz all over her thighs. And even if she did decide to stay here for...for reasons...probably good reasons...she’d sleep better after getting cleaned up.  
  
  
  
It wasn’t hard to find Cobblepot’s attached bathroom and it was every bit as over-ornamented and ostentatious as she expected it would be. The bathrooms back at Wayne Manor were sparse, angular ultramodern chambers that reflected Bruce’s utilitarian personality and the only ones that featured any hint of decoration were those that might be used by visitors. In comparison, Cobblepot’s bathroom was a huge expanse of icy blue marble with gold plated ornaments and fixtures...most in the shape of arctic fowl of some kind.  
  
  
  
The shower was a large, slightly recessed alcove with a pane of frosted crystal glass privacy shield. She shook her head slightly when she noticed the shower heads were sculpted in the shape of squawking penguin heads. She stripped off her stockings and dropped them into a clothes hamper in one corner. Tapping the electronic controls released a fine spray of steaming water from the gilded beaks. A decorative puffin produced a thick, soapy foam and Selina began to clean herself off.  
  
  
  
As she washed she did her best to contemplate the complex tangle of thoughts and emotions knotted up in her chest. Shame and uncertainty were the dominant force.  
  
  
  
 _What the fuck was I thinking?_ Bruce’s face flitted through her mind and her chest tightened slightly. He was a mono-focused moron with the romance, humor and social skills of a cement block...but deep down she knew he was dedicated and caring, even if he was hopelessly addicted to his insane crusade. But he still didn’t deserve to be treated like this. _He’d be disgusted with me if he knew...would he even want me back now?_  
  
  
  
But the thick layer of degradation she felt right now was tempered by the way her skin tingled as the hot, soapy water poured down her back. No matter how foolish it was, fucking Cobblepot had felt amazing...every nerve in her body was still thrumming from the faint echoes of that last, amazing orgasm. If she were given the chance to make the choice all over again, she couldn’t say for sure whether or not she would choose to turn him down this time. The sex had been that good.  
  
  
  
_God-dammit, Selina. You are a fucking mess._  
  
  
  
That wasn’t even considering the issue of coming back to Cobblepot in the first place. She still couldn’t remember those missing months and honestly couldn’t say why she had decided to visit him tonight, let alone why she had chosen to jump on his dick the way she had. The man had kept her under mind control for months, why in the world would she want to go anywhere near him again?  
  
  
  
Those last thoughts rose through that low fog that still permeated Selina’s mind, finally starting to take shape through the thin mist. A horrifying realization began to dawn as those ideas slowly snapped together. Her eyes went wide with shock and, despite the hot water, she felt a chill run up her spine.  
  
  
  
_Oh my fucking God...Cobblepot is using mind con-_  
  
  
  
“Selina Kyle.”  
  
  
  
The sound of her name immediately smoothed away the tension in her shoulders. Her wide eyes went glassy and vacant before her eyelids started to droop, giving her a sleepy, almost intoxicated, appearance. The fog rose up again and the looming revelation sunk down, back to the depths of her subconscious once more.  
  
  
  
She turned slowly towards the sound of the voice, a soft, dreamy expression on her face. Cobblepot was leaning against the glass barrier of the shower, his eyes scanning up and down Selina’s body. In one hand he held a golden pocket watch and, as she looked at him, he snapped its cover closed and hooked the chain over a polished towel-hook in the shape of a swan. He had taken off the torn shirt and was standing there completely naked, the steam from the hot water was already starting to bead on his curly, salt-and-pepper body hair. Glancing down, she could see that his cock was standing out stiffly from underneath the curve of his paunch.  
  
  
  
  
  
He followed her gaze and gave her another crooked smile. “It seems that herbal supplement was...more effective than anticipated. As you can see, I woke up in quite the state.”  
  
  
  
  
  
She turned back to the shower, washing shampoo from her hair. “I’m...I’m not sure...maybe I should go before-”  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina gasped in surprise when Cobblepot reached out, grabbing one arm from behind while his other hand wrapped around her waist. His grip was tight and his voice was taut and laced with an undercurrent of anger.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Selina Kyle...my kitten...you are exactly where you belong. No more roaming alleys and lifting your tail for anyone who’ll pass by and give you a few scraps.”  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina couldn’t find it in her to pull away as he drew her body against his. The soap from her hair and back made their warm skin slippery as they pressed together. Cobblepot moved his hand from her waist, up the smooth, wet skin of her torso to cup the underside of her breast, feeling the heft of it in his palm. His fingers found her nipple and he gave it a teasing squeeze, eliciting a small, involuntary sound from her.  
  
  
  
  
  
His smaller stature meant the hard tip of his cock pressed against the back of her thighs. As his hand fondled her chest, the other still gripping her right arm, she felt her body responding and pressed herself back against his torso. The tip of his cock slipped through the soapy, wet channel of her thighs and slid against the lips of her pussy before emerging, head gleaming and shiny from the front of her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, clenching them around the hard, hot shaft in between.  
  
  
  
  
  
“That’s better, my kitten. My little slut. You know what your place is, don’t you?”  
  
  
  
  
  
She was silent for a moment, but couldn’t resist pressing her ass harder against his waist and squeezing just a little bit tighter with her legs. It was involuntary, like the need to probe at a missing tooth with the tongue.  
  
  
  
  
  
“I said...You. Know. Your. Place!” His grip tightened on her wrist and his rough fingers pinched her nipple hard enough to hurt. The growl in his shook her body, making her knees weak and the fog in her mind became thicker, more cloying. “Don’t you? What are you?”  
  
  
  
  
  
“I’m a slut…” The words loosened the knot in her chest and she felt...for some reason...free. The guilt and uncertainty that she had felt earlier just melted away. She didn’t need to worry...just obey. “I’m a whore...your whore.”  
  
  
  
  
  
“That’s right.” Cobblepot rocked his hips back and forth, sliding the length of his cock between her thighs. It’s thick, bulbous head parting the lips of her pussy and stroking against her clit as it slid back and forth, pulling a groan of delicious pleasure from her lips. “And tell me...what should I do with my little whore?”  
  
“Fuck me.” There was no hesitation at all. The words fell from her lips as naturally as breathing. “Stick that hard cock in my cunt and fuck me. Fill me up with cum. Fuck me, please! I want you inside me!”  
  
“With pleasure, my kitten.” Cobblepot slipped his cock free of the tight gap between her legs and released his grip on her. He pushed her against the smooth, steam-slicked wall of the shower. “Spread those legs.”  
  
Selina obeyed, leaning forward and gripping the conveniently located vertical grab bar for support. The position stuck her ass directly out behind her and she spread her ankles apart. Rivulets of hot water ran down her back, between the crack of her ass and finally dripping from the swollen, glistening lips of her shaved pussy.  
  
“Put it in…” She was breathing heavily again, making her voice ragged and hoarse with desire. “I need you inside me. I need you to split me open and fuck me raw.”  
  
Cobblepot took his time, admiring the curve of Selina’s thighs and ass, wet and glistening from the water. His hands reached out, stroking her shoulders and gliding down the smooth slope of her back before parting to cup the sides of her flawless ass. His voice was an equally rough growl and it was difficult to hear over the hiss of the shower.  
  
  
  
  
  
“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll never forget it. No matter where you are...no matter who you’re with, all you’ll be able to think about is the feeling of my cock in your cunt.” The fat head of his dick throbbed against the back of her pussy as he came closer, teasing her. “I’m going to claim you. Plant my flag deep, deep inside you. Make you mine. My cunt. My hot little fuck-hole. That’s what you are.”  
  
  
  
  
  
As he spoke, his fingers dug into her flanks, his big, gnarled hands denting her soft, flawless skin. She tried to respond to his declaration but her body was shaking now and she could only manage a soft, plaintive moan. But what her mouth couldn’t express her body could...her legs spread wider and she pressed her ass backwards, rubbing the tip of his manhood against her pussy as she desperately tried to coax him inside of her.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Mine!” Cobblepot snarled as he held her steady and yanked her body sharply backwards, impaling her cunt on his thick, medicinally enlarged cock. Her pussy was already eager and slick from a combination of hot water and her own lustful juices and it eagerly took him inside, like a sheath accepting its sword.  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina’s entire body convulsed, shaking her to her core as a high-pitched moan escaped her lips. Cobblepot planted his feet firmly on the slip-free tiles of the shower and pulled his hips back, slipping his cock free of Selina’s cunt, the mist from the shower mingling with the slick pussy-juice that coated it.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Wha...what are you doing?” Selina whimpered, looking back over her shoulder at him. “You said...you said that you were going to fuck me? You were going to!”  
  
  
  
  
  
She tried to push herself back onto Cobblepot’s cock once more but he angled his hips upwards and her movements only caused his slick cock to slide between her ass cheeks.  
  
  
  
  
  
“That is what I said...but maybe I’m spoiling you, my kitten?” She tried to turn but Cobblepot released his grip on her waist and wrapped one arm around her ribs and gently gripped her neck with his other hand. Despite his small size, that hand was big enough to wrap around her slender throat. “Maybe you don’t deserve any more of my cock tonight, hmmm? After all, I treated you so well before and you still ran away…”  
  
  
  
  
  
“That’s not fair! You can’t just-”  
  
  
  
  
  
Her voice was cut off when his grip tightened slightly. Not enough to choke her but enough to force her to silence.  
  
  
  
  
  
“I can do whatever I want with you, my kitten. That’s what it means to own you.” His cock seemed bigger than before, like the tip of a cudgel prodding against her ass, maybe an effect of that herbal medicine or maybe it was Selina’s own overstimulated senses. “If I want you to kneel in front of me while I jerk off and spend my jizz all over your face then that’s exactly what I’ll do. If I want to call in a prostitute...a whore who actually gets paid for her work...and make you watch while I fuck her brains out, then that’s what I’ll do. Understood?”  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina wanted to scream with frustration, to spin around and shove him to the ground and ride his cock until his balls were completely dry. But...but she couldn’t. She forced herself to relax in his grip, her head drooping as hot water dripped from the tips of her hair.  
  
  
  
  
  
“I...I understand.” She took a deep breath before she could continue. “Please...I’m all yours...do whatever you want.”  
  
“That’s what I wanted to hear, my kitten.” Cobblepot leaned down to kiss Selina’s back. “And since you’re such a good little slut, I’ll give that hungry cunt of yours exactly what it’s aching for.”  
  
With an explosive thrust of his hips, he slammed himself back inside her, triggering an explosive burst of electric pleasure between her legs even as her body ached from the rough treatment. This time he didn’t pause to savor the feeling of penetration, within seconds of ramming his cock inside her he pulled back and slammed his cock home once more. It was like a machine, like the hammer of a gun being pulled back to propel another blast of rough ecstasy into her cunt.  
  
The force of his thrusts nearly knocked her off her feet, causing her to stumble forward and grip the polished metal bar tightly to avoid toppling to the ground. This seemed to only increase Cobblepot’s savagery, causing him to lean in, shoving his cock even deeper into her throbbing slit. His rough, forceful fucking pushed her forward until her cheek was pressed against the tiled marble wall. The jostling of her body caused her erect nipples to slide across the cold marble, sending arcs of sensation from her breasts to her pelvis, tightening her cunt around Cobblepot’s cock.  
  
  
  
He was relentless, pounding her into the wall until he could reach around her and grab the same grip-bar she had been using to keep her footing. With newfound purchase, he ground her between his cock and the wall. She could only press her forearms and face against the cold, smooth marble of the shower wall to keep herself from being squeezed painfully against the metal bar.  
  
  
  
Despite, or truly because of, Cobblepot’s rough behavior she quickly felt an orgasm building inside her. Water ran down her face and dripped from her silently gasping lips, traces of shampoo still stinging her eyes. She came hard enough that her knees gave out and she fell backward, leaning against Cobblepot’s chest.  
  
  
  
  
  
However, he was still inside her, his thick, angry erection still hard as a rock and he shoved her back against the wall and continued to roughly fuck her. His breathing was heavy and ragged, his movements just as forceful and fierce as before. Cobblepot was red-faced and practically foaming at the mouth as he strained to reach climax.  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina reached one trembling hand towards her waist and slid her fingers between her thighs. The walls of her pussy tightened, gripping Cobblepot’s shaft tightly enough that she could feel the engorged veins standing out along its length as they rippled in and out of her wet slit. As another climax approached, Selina reached between her spread legs, her face still pressing uncomfortably against the cool stone wall of the shower. Her questing fingers brushed against the rapidly pumping shaft of his cock, slick with the mixture of water and their mingled fluids. Finally, her fingers found Cobblepot’s balls, waving back and forth with his frenzied fornication and taut and ready to burst.  
  
  
  
  
  
Closing her fingers around his testicles, Selina could feel his jackhammer heartbeat pulsing between her fingers. She could practically sense the boiling cum filling his testicles to bursting. They throbbed with unreleased pressure, so full that they might explode at any moment.  
  
  
  
  
  
“P-please…” She panted, voice muffled by the wall, squeezing Cobblepot’s balls between her fingers. As she did, she could feel his cock suddenly jerk upwards inside of her, twitching and throbbing. “Puh...aaaah...please..c-cum in me. Don’t make me waaaaaAAAAIII---!!”  
  
  
  
  
  
Her words slurred off into a loud cry of animal pleasure as Cobblepot finally released his load. Despite having come twice already tonight, he seemed to come endlessly, pumping streams of thick, sticky cum into her eager pussy. This triggered another climax, her body tightening around Cobblepot’s shaft. It was raw, painful...aching from the night’s previous pleasures and Cobblepot’s rough treatment...but it still felt amazing. Her knees shook, stomach quivering as she struggled not to collapse in exhaustion and pleasure. The tightening walls of her cunt squeezed out excess cum, sending it dribbling down her legs, mixing with the water of the shower and flowing down the shining metal drain set into the floor.  
  
  
  
  
  
Cobblepot heaved an immense sigh of satisfaction and exhaustion, slipping his softening cock free of her. He stumbled backward, grabbing a metal soap-dish hung from the wall (fortunately well-secured). His face was still red and he was breathing heavily as he lowered himself to the floor of the shower, droplets of water collecting on the tip of his long nose and sputtering away as his heavy breathing blew it off.  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina collapsed to the floor as well, fingers idly sliding along the reddened, sensitive lips of her pussy. She trembled as the tips of her finger brushed the swollen, overstimulated nub of her clit.  
  
  
  
  
  
They both lay there for several minutes, slowly regaining their breath and the strength in their legs. Unsteadily, Selina pulled herself to her feet and turned off the shower. Cobblepot rose as well, dripping and still breathing heavily. Without a word, the two of them walked out of the shower on shaky legs. They didn’t bother with a towel, leaving a trail of wet footprints and water droplets behind them as they left the bathroom and trudged across the carpet. Still damp, they both collapsed onto the waterbed, which welcomed them into its soft, jiggly embrace.  
  
  
  
  
  
Cobblepot rolled onto his back, glancing down at the now-flaccid length of his cock. He heaved a sigh. “I think...perhaps...I may have taken a bit too much of that herbal supplement.”  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina could only respond with an exhausted chuckle. She meant to say something in response but her limbs and face felt so heavy. Before she knew it, she was asleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
*********  
  
  
  
  
  
She woke up with daylight streaming through the curtains of the window that she had entered the night before. She was still laying in the middle of a damp patch from where she had passed out soaking wet. Blearily, she sat up, her limbs still weak and shaky.  
  
  
  
  
  
She could feel a tightness in her chest...the fog was receding from her mind once more and she could feel the looming shape of guilt and uncertainty rising once more, like monoliths emerging from a receding ocean. That tiny voice inside was louder, telling her that she had done something horrible, made a mistake. Telling her how stupid she had been, what an awful person she was.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Good morning, my dear little kitten.”  
  
  
  
  
  
Cobblepot was already up, seated in a chair by the writing desk he had sat at the night before. He was dressed in a fluffy, blue-white bathrobe with a monogrammed and overlapping “OC” on the breast. He had apparently retrieved that pocket watch from the towel rack in the bathroom and was staring into it with that smug, crooked grin on his face. He looked up, turning that grin towards her, and snapped the watch closed and set it aside on his desk.  
  
  
  
  
  
As he assessed her with that predatory, proprietary gaze she could feel that small voice in the back of her mind growing louder. Telling her that she was a fool. An idiot. A traitor. The towering mountains of disgust and doubt were all around her, casting her mind into deep shadow.  
  
  
  
  
  
Cobblepot got to his feet and walked over to Selina, who pulled the bedsheets up to cover her naked body. It was a pointless gesture after everything they had done last night. Her memories were a little blurry but she could still remember the things she had done. Things she had begged. What she had allowed Cobblepot to do to her. She just couldn’t remember why. Why had she done it. Was she insane...some kind of nymphomaniac psycho?  
  
“Feeling shy, my kitten?” She wanted to smack that grin off of Cobblepot’s smug face but her arms and legs were still weak...and she couldn’t shake off the memory of his thick fingers on her body. His hard cock in her mouth...in her cunt. The shame intensified when she could feel a hint of wetness between her legs at the memory. “Now, now...don’t worry. I think I know what you need.”  
  
“Fuck off, Penguin.” She snarled, getting unsteadily to her feet while still holding the blanket tight around her body. Despite her outward ferocity, she didn’t know what to do next. She had no idea where her clothes were and even if she managed to get her lingerie and trench coat back, she didn’t relish the idea of trying to skip across the Gotham rooftops in broad daylight.  
  
The thought of contacting Bruce flashed briefly through her mind and the sudden impact of guilt and anxiety nearly brought her to her knees. What would she tell him? How could she explain why she needed to be picked up from Cobblepot’s private condo? He’d know. There was no way he wouldn’t figure it out. He’d never forgive her. She didn’t deserve to be forgiven.  
  
She hugged her arms around her body and sat heavily back onto the bed, sending slight ripples through the waterbed. It was all she could do to keep from crying as a hurricane of dark thoughts flooded her head.  
  
  
  
  
  
She was surprised when Cobblepot’s large hand patted her on the head. She almost swore at him again, but that slight physical contact was also oddly comforting.  
  
“There, there, my kitten. I have a gift for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an expensive, but gaudy, looking leather collar shaped like a stylized animal collar. In place of a name tag was a platinum setting that held a massive, heart-shaped red jewel.  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina’s gaze was held by the glittering depths of the jewel. It was gorgeous and likely worth millions. Her roguish instincts stirred, a hungry desire she hadn’t indulged in for months...not since Bruce had taken her in. For a moment, she didn’t feel guilty or self-hating, merely fascinated by the glitter of the red gemstone.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Well, I say a gift.” Cobblepot’s voice was slightly distant as her attention was captured by the gem. “This is merely returning something you unfortunately lost.”  
  
  
  
  
  
That voice in Selina’s subconscious finally broke through the fascination of the gemstone and she looked up to see Cobblepot smiling at her. There was an odd hint of...tenderness on his face.  
  
  
  
  
  
“My kitten, I think I’ve had enough of Gotham for a while. I’ve got good people in Gotham, like my man Marko, to keep things running without me. You might not know this but I do run a wonderful little penguin sanctuary down in Ecuador and I think a brief retirement would do me good. Do both of us good.”  
  
  
  
  
  
“Us? What are you talking about, Pen...Cobblepot.”  
  
  
  
  
  
“I think you know, my kitten. Surely some things are coming back to you, aren’t they?”  
  
  
  
  
  
“...I’m...I’m not sure…”  
  
  
  
  
  
“Of course you are, my kitten. Take the collar and we can go away together. There’s nothing worthwhile for you here. No need to fight it.”  
  
  
  
  
  
Selina looked down at the gem. The protective fog was growing thin and the megalithic shapes of disgust and shame were ready to fall on her, burying her beneath them.  
  
  
  
  
  
“Take it. Please.”  
  
  
  
  
  
That voice in her head was shouting now. Telling her what garbage she was for even thinking about this. She was disgusting. She had no pride, no loyalty, no dignity.  
  
  
  
  
  
Her memories were still vague but she knew that if she took the gem then she’d be under his control. He’d have complete control over her once again. She wouldn’t be able to escape, wouldn’t be able to think. She’d be nothing other than a piece of arm candy and a living fuck-doll for the Penguin.  
  
  
  
  
  
But...if she took the gem, those great mountains of self-hatred would recede once again and she’d be able to sink into those soft clouds of cloying, pink fog once more.  
  
  
  
  
  
She locked eyes with Cobblepot, her hand hovering over his palm, inches away from the glistening red diamond. That voice inside was screaming and her heart was being crushed with tight cords of guilt.  
  
  
  
  
  
There really was no choice.  
  
  
  
  
  
She reached out and took the collar. Letting the blankets fall away from her naked body she fastened the choker around her neck.  
  
  
  
  
  
The soft fog rose once more.  
  
  
  
  
  
The dark mountains receded.  
  
  
  
  
  
She drowned the shrieking voice of shame in a deep, crimson sea.  
  
  
  
  
  
No more guilt. No more worries. No more choices.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
